Coin Laundry
by goldflecks
Summary: A repost of Coin Laundry by the-author-formerly-known-as-luvactually for those who requested it x
1. Author's Note

Hey you guys...

So, a few years ago I wrote a Skins fic called Coin Laundry. And then after it was completed, I deleted it, cos my kinda creepy ex found it and used it to stalk me with. Awkward...

I used to give out copies of it to anyone who asked, but I lost track of it all and today I checked that account for the first time in about a year and it turns out that all this time I've been getting weekly requests for it. You guys...thank you so much for your interest and I'm so sorry I didn't get back to you and if you're still looking for it, here it is.

It's from a long time ago now, and some of the story makes me cringe like woah now, in that way that old writing does, but mostly, I just have great memories of YOU GUYS, the other Skins readers. You were a wonderful bunch of human beings and the interactions we had around this fic meant (and still mean) the world to me. Between the amazing emails I got and the incredible friends I made and the well over a thousand reviews where you wrote me essays back about your lives and we raged at each other about love and denial and sex and...paint...it was a special thing in my life there. I'll treasure that always.

So if you're one of the people who emailed me for a copy - here it is and sorry for the delay, or if you're a newer Skins fan and you want to read it, be my guest. I hope bringing it back spurs some happiness somewhere like it did for me.

xx LuvActually/Goldflecks


	2. Chapter 1

**Okay, hi, I don't know about you guys but I'm now officially sick of how Emily and Naomi are spending the entire of Series 4 fighting and crying. I was cool with it at the beginning, but there's only a couple of episodes left and everything is _still_ shit. Hence why I'm taking matters into my own hands. I'm enjoying reading lots of the other stories out there at the moment and here's my contribution. Relatively light and easy.**

**Course, it wouldn't be a proper fanfic without a healthy dose of angst...just not of the suicidal/stalking/prison sentence imposing/no hope in love/crushing the life out ****of small cute redheads variety. Jesus, Skins...torture much? I'm still hanging out for ****the happy ending I'm sure is coming so I'll leave the original story well alone for now. This is totally AU; we'll see how it goes...it's a slow starter, hang in there.**

**Inspired by the fact I couldn't get a rather annoying song out of my head for several days, about love in a laundromat.**

**.**

_Do you have a reason?_

_Do you have a reason for me?_

_Can I be the girl that you met in a coin laundry?_

**Lisa Mitchell 'Coin Laundry'**

**.**

Naomi Campbell was determined not to let this thing beat her. She took a deep breath in and calmly closed the door again. Nothing. She prodded every single button she could see…gently, but the lights just blinked at her, blindly. She began to growl, and stabbed each button again, this time harder, but her commands were ignored. "Fuck!" her fist punched several buttons at once, with absolutely no result except for the reddening of her knuckles. "Fucking piece of fucking wank shite!" she kicked it several times, leaving sneaker scuds against the white metal.

All her technical skills exhausted, there was nothing left to do except sigh in defeat. She reached into the machine and pulled out her entire wardrobe, drenched in water, gooey with laundry liquid and still fucking dirty. She walked away from the whole mess and rummaged through the hidden closet under the stairs, pulling out pairs of shoes, an old broken stereo, several cans of white paint, some escaped recycling she'd secretly stashed months ago and her worn out trench coat, before finding scrunched in the very back an old hiking rucksack. She tripped backwards over the mess she'd produced and straightened up, scowling at it. It would keep. Her knees crunching on the violently hard floorboards, she stuffed the whole sodden lot of laundry into the pack, grabbed keys and her wallet, settled the pack in place on her back and struggled down the stairs.

Part way down the street she realised that not only was her back damp, but a small trickle of water was dripping incessantly down the back of her jeans and onto the pavement. _Fucking brilliant. _There was no help for it but to pretend it wasn't happening and just hope she didn't bump into anyone she knew.

She'd passed the laundrette hundreds of times on her way out, but had never been inside. She wasn't even sure of how the things worked, but if she didn't end up with some clean clothes by the end of the day then tomorrow she'd be wearing old baggy granny knickers she didn't even know how she'd come to own and possibly nothing else at all, so she'd just have to work it out. She cursed herself for letting things get to this state. It only ever happened when she was on a roll.

She pushed the door of the laundromat open, and was greeted with the soft smell of fresh laundry. The room was pretty small and painted a hideous lime green, but it was clean, filled with beautiful, functional, wardrobe reviving, _working _washing machines. And it was empty. Almost. She found herself hesitating as she noticed the single other occupant several metres away, with her back turned, leaning down to one of the machines and rummaging inside it. _Really, exceptionally nice arse. _Naomi blinked and the door swung shut behind her, causing the woman to straighten and turn around, in that instinctive check for danger way that human beings can never quite suppress.

Naomi was briefly aware of a flash of red hair and pale skin before the cold water seeped suddenly into the back of her underwear, causing her to splutter a loud "Fucking…_FUCK!_" and jerk away, struggling to get the wet rucksack off her back, dumping it on the floor, turning and craning her neck around to survey the damage to the back of her previously pale grey jeans. She heard a stifled laugh from behind her. No, scratch that, it was definitely a giggle. She turned back again to glare, but her furious expression faded almost instantly as her eyes met the pair of sparkling brown ones surveying her with obvious amusement. _Really fucking brilliant_, she thought. _Here I am, alone, face-to-face with an ridiculously hot girl…and she's laughing at me._

"It's not funny," she raised her eyebrows. "I look like I've fucking pissed myself." "It's okay," the redhead reassured her, looking serious. "It's a common look in this neighbourhood, you'll fit right in."

"Thanks a lot!" she scowled, but it ended up in a grin, despite herself. _Shit, she's beautiful…_she knew better than to dwell on that thought, but she found herself floating away with it anyway. There really was no arguing that particular point…the girl smirking at her was undeniably attractive. Long red hair, scrunched lazily into a messy ponytail, skinny t-shirt, skinny jeans, none of which did anything to hide the way her body curved in all the right places, flawless skin, small pointed face and dark eyes that danced with amusement and a definite hint of mischief. _Jesus, just my type_…_or she would be, of course, if I was free, _she reminded herself. She broke her gaze, hoping the girl hadn't noticed how obviously she'd just checked her out. Luckily she seemed oblivious.

"I'm Emily," the redhead stuck out her hand with a radiant smile, that left the blonde feeling slightly dizzy.

"Naomi," she smiled back at the weirdness of a formal introduction in a laundrette, whilst standing around in a pair of soaked jeans. She gently squeezed the smooth, warm hand for a millisecond, before pulling quickly away. "Great, well since you're happy to laugh at me, reckon you can show me how this whole thing works?"

"I don't know…" the sentence trailed away, the girl's lips quirking. "It is definitely rocket science."

"Come on, I'm shit at this type of thing." _And I blatantly just want an excuse to talk to you._

Now it was the redhead's turn to raise her eyebrows. _She's so onto me…_but Naomi found herself obediently separating whites from colours and using the coin change machine, following precise if not slightly deliberately patronising instructions.

"Okay!" she hissed finally. "My fault for acting blonde, I get it, thanks."

"You understand you can't pretend to be a dumb blonde when it's blatantly due to peroxide, right?"

"Probly leached into my brain by now I reckon. And like you can talk…"

"Excuse me?"

"Feisty redhead? You can't pretend that's natural either."

"Didn't realise I was being feisty." _Oops, no, that part just happened in my head. _Luckily she was saved by the beeping of one of Emily's machines. She turned and bent over it again and Naomi forced her eyes elsewhere with great effort. The redhead straightened again and reaching up, began shoving damp clean clothes into one of the overhead driers. She was kind of short for it, and as she leaned up on tiptoes to reach the coin slot, her tshirt rode up exposing a tiny gap of perfect pale skin. Naomi found herself coming over to take the coins for her, almost just to give her eyes something else to focus on.

"Thanks," came the redhead's low, throaty voice, close to her ear as Naomi fed the coins in. Stepping away with a small shiver, she found herself standing on something soft and lumpy. She looked down and realised the item of damp clothing she was reaching for, was a large pair of men's y-fronts. _I fucking knew it. My gaydar is total shit. _She held them out, pinched between two unwilling fingers.

"Uh, Emily, you dropped your jocks," she raised her eyebrows.

"Ha, great," the girl grinned, seemingly completely oblivious to the fact the item of clothing she was now slinging into the drier had just caused her laundrette colleague's daydreams to shatter into big jagged shards. "Boyfriend probably not keen on going around commando…shame really," the grin curved into a smirk. _Yeah, great…can't get enough of the penis… fucking just twist the knife why don't you? _She backed away further, boosting herself up to sit on one of the machines and gazed out at the street at the passers-by. It was weird, she'd barely met the girl and yet she'd been somehow convinced there was some kind of…spark between them. _Fucking wishful imagination strikes again. _This kind of thing had gotten her into trouble before. Her girlfriend liked to tease her about it - _bit too sure of your own attractiveness aren't you babe? _Oh well…she began to swing her feet, kicking the machine softly with her heels, her boredom creeping as the silence grew.

"So…game of 'I spy' then?" she tried. The redhead looked up from the fingernails she was fussing with and looked confused.

"Excuse me?"

"Thumb wrestle? Hangman, maybe, if you have a pen? No? Charades perhaps?" Now the girl was looking at her with an expression that quite clearly said she was regretting having made eye contact with the weird pants-wetting stranger in the first place. Naomi couldn't quite keep a straight face, and catching her growing smirk, the redhead rolled her eyes and smiled crookedly.

"Okayyyy," she dragged out, making it clear it was a charity mission. "Or we could just go and grab a coffee?" Naomi couldn't help her pleased smile at that. _Totally likes me. Ego saved._

"What about our clothes?" she suddenly frowned.

"Just from the place next door, I meant. Not too trusting are you?" "Fuck no. I've lived in this neighbourhood a while now."

"You sure it's not just cos you're too proud to be seen in public after wetting your pants?" "Shit," she'd forgotten about that. The redhead laughed at the look on her face.

"Don't worry, I'll stand behind you. Got your back." She promptly turned on her heel and walked out the door, leaving Naomi to mooch self-consciously after her. _Bitch._


	3. Chapter 2

The redhead stirred sugar into her oversized coffee then sucked the milky froth from the silver teaspoon. Naomi watched the parted rosy lips for a full three seconds and felt herself begin to blush. _Jesus christ. This girl makes my vision go slow-motion. _She stared down into her cup for a moment, suddenly regretting having said yes to the chance to get to know her better. _For fuck's sake. I can still fucking talk to an attractive girl, can't I? __An __attractive_ _STRAIGHT__ girl, who I'll probably never see again. _She still felt strangely guilty though. Looking up, she saw the girl frowning at her slightly.

"Are you determined to be bored wherever you go?"

"I'm not bored!" _God, don't play cool or anything. _"I was just…thinking about something…" she tried lamely to save the situation. "So, um…Emily, what is it you do? When you're not doing laundry, that is?"

"I fucking hate that question," the redhead frowned suddenly.

"Oookay…you'd actually rather talk about laundry then?" She crossed her arms thoughtfully. "So, tell me…what's your stance on 'dryclean only'? Cos I'm pretty sure that's some kind of conspiracy between top brand fashion designers and multinational chemical manufacturers." Naomi's favourite hobby in the entire world was making cute girls laugh. This time it was particularly gratifying, as Emily's pretty mouth smirked.

"I'm serious!" she replied. "I hate that who or what we are always comes down to what we get paid for. There are so many more interesting things about me than what I do for a living."

"I see. Parking inspector, huh?"

"No!"

"Work for the tax department?" "Getting warmer."

"Oh, wait, _taxidermist!"_

"That's just gross..."

"Debt collection agent?"

"Oh, right…I'd be totally intimidating there," she looked down at her small body and rolled her eyes.

"Accountant?"

"…Shut up."

"You're not!"

"And I like rock-climbing, scuba-diving, foreign films, I'm a brilliant cook, I've been to every continent except Antarctica, and I'm amazing in bed."

"I don't believe it."

"No, really! There was a big survey done by one of the papers, of which professionals were best in bed…accountants topped the list. Strange but true."

"Right sure, and which paper was that? 'Accounting Daily' or something? Besides, I didn't mean _that, _jesus," she ignored her own creeping blush. "You don't look like an accountant, that's all."

"Fuck you. What the fuck does an accountant look like?"

"I don't know…grey and middle-aged or something? Not band t-shirts and jeans anyway." _Not sparkling eyes, biteable lips and a dirty mouth._

"Yeah well, I'm not an accountant on Sundays am I? I have a life as well…work is just…work. And just because you're all artistic and shit, that doesn't mean you're somehow a better person than me."

"What the fuck? How'd you know that?" Naomi stared. Emily shot her a disbelieving look, and reached out to brush her finger briefly over the blonde's inner arm. Naomi managed to repress her shiver and looked down at her arm, easily locating where the girl had touched her because of how the skin still burned. That and the large smudge of blue paint. "Oh," was all she said. The redhead sat back and looked smug.

"So you do paint then? What kind of stuff do you do?" she asked. Naomi couldn't quite interpret her tone of voice. Was she actually interested or just being polite?

"I don't know…I sort of hate talking about it." It was true, she was sick of talking about it. Fucking art wank world. Emily looked slightly taken aback by her sudden scowl. "It's just…so much shit gets spoken about art. I promised myself I'd never become one of them."

"Them?"

"Those assholes. Y'know…dress in black, walk around galleries and wank in public." Emily started to laugh and Naomi let her scowl soften slightly.

"So you couldn't possibly describe it to me, even in general terms, without wanking." "Nope. It's scientifically impossible to describe art without sounding like a tosser. So I don't do it." The girl looked at her for a long moment. Naomi could tell she'd somehow piqued her interest.

"Would you show it to me then…sometime?" Naomi felt the warmth of the brown eyes on her face. She knew there were several easy ways to let Emily see her work, without saying what she said next, but it came out anyway, some irrational, unthinking part of her wanting to draw the girl in closer, despite everything that was wrong with that idea.

"If you want. You could drop by my studio…sometime." She was rewarded with a gorgeous smile and her belly began to ache.

.

.

In between nipping in and out to put more coins in the driers and ordering a second round of coffees, they'd ended up spending more than an hour together. Emily was Bristol born and bred, though her accent was more North London where she'd studied and worked a while. They were both twenty-five. She wondered why she'd never bumped into the redhead before - she'd visited her mother in Bristol often enough over the years, until all the shit had hit the fan and she'd moved there herself. She was pretty convinced she'd never so much as passed the girl in the street. She'd have noticed for sure. Emily insisted on paying for their coffees. "It's the least I can do," she teased, "since I'm a corporate sell- out and you're a starving artist."

Naomi wasn't exactly the domestic type, but she found herself carefully folding every item of clothing she removed, warm and fragrant from the drier, pretending to herself she wasn't just trying to prolong the conversation. "Wow," Emily interrupted her own sentence as the blonde paired a bright red lacy bra with a matching skimpy thong. "You have amazing lingerie. Makes my underwear look like kid's stuff," she frowned, holding up a small rainbow of cute tiny knickers. _Don't think about it…damn vivid imagination, ah fuck…_

"Oh, these aren't mine," she replied. "It's my fucking girlfriend sneaking her stuff into my washing pile again. I keep telling her I won't let her treat me like I'm some kind of little housewife, but she always finds a way. These are hers too," she dumped a selection of black silk and lace onto the pile. She looked up and noticed Emily was blushing. _Oh, right, now she's prudish. Double standards there little straight girl._

"You're a lucky lady. My boyfriend would kill for me to dress like that." She was cute when she was embarrassed and Naomi couldn't quite help pushing it a little further.

"I don't know…reckon you're probably quite gorgeous in those," she teased, picking up a small pink pair of knickers from the top of the pile. Emily snatched them back, her cheeks flaming. Naomi had always had a weird quirk when it came to dealing with anyone uncomfortable with her being gay: shove it in their face until they got over it, or left her the fuck alone. The blush stained Emily's cheeks right up until they walked out the door into the cool evening air, the autumnal breeze making them both shiver. Naomi could make out goosebumps covering Emily's bare arms as she hugged the ridiculously large washing basket to her chest. They turned to look at each other, both speaking at once.

"So which way are you-"

"I'm headed this way-"

It turned out they lived only a block apart, and they struggled with their unwieldy loads together through the Sunday evening streets. "God," moaned Emily suddenly. "I'd forgotten it was Monday morning tomorrow. Though I guess, that probably doesn't mean much to you?"

"Nope. Think I'll lie in. Take my time over coffee. Maybe go for a walk in the park, get inspired." Naomi was lying. The morning held for her a particularly unappealing business meeting, but since the redhead seemed determined to judge her as a floaty hippie art student type, she wasn't going to correct her.

"You suck," came Emily's eloquent pronouncement. "Think of me then, while I'm number crunching for assholes."

"Why do you do it then?" she asked bluntly, looking sideways at her. The sinking sunlight cast long golden rays over the buildings, lighting up Emily's hair and causing her skin to glow; she looked almost angelic. Naomi tried to imagine her dressed in some kind of suit, in an office building somewhere in town and for once, her imagination failed. Emily bit her lip.

"It just kind of happened really. I was young and I wanted out, quickly. Out of Bristol, away from home. I wanted to get the fuck away from _everyone_, you know? But I didn't want to end up falling on my arse and have to ask for help. So…no arts degree for me…it just seemed like the best way at the time, to earn a bunch of money fast and just fucking…be free…go anywhere, travel, work any time I needed it and never have to rely on anyone. Anyway it worked. And here I am…free." Emily's voice was fierce, but her eyes were uncertain. Naomi could tell she was trying to convince herself of something. It was a strange, angry little speech and Naomi hated how much she wanted to take the time to figure out the puzzle of this girl - who she was and what all the tiny pieces that made up her life were. She imagined lying next to her in bed, late mornings tangled in sheets, talking for hours about life, hearing what the small redhead thought about the world. _No _she corrected herself. _Talking over a beer, at the pub, as friends. _Her heart sank. _What the fuck is wrong with me?_

"God, sorry…ranting," Emily misinterpreted her silence. She smiled crookedly and turned, squinting against the blazing sunset. "That's my apartment," she gestured to one of those new-build architectural monstrosities that Naomi fucking hated.

"Huh."

"What?"

"Just…Emily, don't you think your building looks like it's sposed to be facing out on some beach somewhere? Like, some big tourist trap beach, with white sand and a big blue ocean. All those empty balconies and big windows and all you're looking out on is a bunch of grubby streets and some old factories." The redhead was staring at her. Suddenly she reached up and softly kissed her cheek. Naomi flushed slightly. "What was that for?"

"Nothing. Just…that's what I told my boyfriend when he wanted to buy it," Emily smiled, but Naomi spotted a fleeting sadness in her eyes. The redhead fished out her phone from her jeans pocket and offered it to her, almost shyly. Naomi did the same. They entered their numbers into each other's phone, then Emily lifted her basket of clothes and turned to her with another smile, genuine this time, it seemed. "Well, thanks," she said awkwardly. "That was an unexpectedly enjoyable washing trip."

"Yeah…maybe we should meet up and do dishes sometime."

"I look forward to it." Emily hugged the basket to her chest, gave her a tiny finger wave as she turned and disappeared through the plate glass doors. Naomi stared at the doors for half a minute after the redhead was out of sight, then quickly shook her head and began to walk. She unlocked her front door and walked up the stairs in a daze. Her girlfriend was sitting at the table, part way across the room, with piles of paper spread around her, frowning slightly. The smell of chinese food wafted past her nose.

"Hey babe. Saved you a plate, it's in the oven." Naomi ditched the bag of laundry and walked over, kissing her girlfriend on the top of her head. She couldn't quite bring herself to look her in the face. Not just yet. There was something she had to do first.

"Thanks," was all she said. "Might have some in a bit." She walked straight up the stairs and closed the door to her studio. She grabbed some paint and started to mix. _Ochre, cinnamon, gold and cherries._

_._


	4. Chapter 3

**Ah,****you guys are going to HATE who I've picked as a boyfriend for Emily, I can feel it already :D But a) it's a pairing I've not seen yet and b) there's a reason for it. The reason's name starts with 'E' and it rhymes with 'Meffy'.**

Emily's eyes glazed over as she stared at her computer screen. Monday's were never good days for her, but right now she had a nagging urge to stab her own eye out with a fork. It had started with skeezy Christopher, the second she walked into the office. "Looking hot this morning babe," he sneered as she passed his desk. "Loving the tights."

"Wanker."

"Fuck yeah, you got that right…uh, _uh, Emily, _oh yeah, uh-"

"Cunt." It didn't matter what she said, it was always the same. The slimy asshole had friends in management and none of the many complaints against him were ever actioned. She'd made her way to the corner cubicle she'd occupied for the last two years and put her headphones on to drown him out. This was supposed to have been a temp job…to replenish the bank account so they could head to Mexico for a six month excursion. But then Tony had gotten himself into a bloody mortgage and convinced her to stay a while.

It was only fair, she supposed. The restless feet had always been hers, Tony had just been along for the ride. _Em…can't we just stay put, just for a while? Got to grow up sometime don't we? Nothing drastic, just…chill, yeah?_He was right of course. And he was a total Bristol boy through and through. They both had friends here, and family…a whole life's history right here in this town. The problem was that for him, that was a draw card. For her it was the whole reason she'd wanted to run away in the first place. Fucking ironic really, that the one person she'd met since moving away that she really loved, was the same person who'd convince her to come back.

She gazed out the window, surprised as she always was on days like this, to see a sparkling blue sky outside. Somehow she always expected everything to turn grey, along with her mood, whenever she sat at that desk. Today in particular, the contrast between the world outside and the one inside was particularly unbearable. She blamed it squarely on that girl from yesterday._Naomi. _With the big expressive blue eyes and the amazing sounding life… she seemed to represent something to her in a way. That was it - _Freedom. _No office jobs or mortgages in her life, you could tell just by looking at her. Cute quirky clothes, a sexy-underwear clad female lover, living a life of creativity and passion. Emily felt her life to be severely lacking all of a sudden. _For fuck's sake, _she reprimanded herself. _If you're going to start caring what a random girl you met in a laundrette thinks about your life, you might as well be back in college…so scared everyone is judging you that you'd rather be Katie's doormat than have your own personality. Besides, _she thought, _she LIKED me._

It was strange that it mattered to her so much, but it did; she felt weirdly validated by it in fact. The girl had reminded her that she wasn't just Katie's twin, Tony's girlfriend, Christopher's victim and McPherson & Blyth's junior accountant. She was Emily Fitch…independent, interesting and attractive. She'd liked the way the blonde girl had

looked at her - as if she was intriguing and special somehow. She'd felt that way, once upon a time. It was time to remember how to be that person again, she decided. "Fitch," Danny's voice interrupted her thoughts. "These are the September figures for you. Gav wants them done in time for the two o'clock meeting, yeah?"

She was practically gasping for some fresh air when lunchtime rolled around. She grabbed her bag and coat and was out the door so fast Christopher didn't even get a chance to comment. She walked across the park and into the small crowded cafe, sliding into a seat opposite the striking brunette who'd saved it for her. "Hey Effs. Have you ordered yet?"

"It's on it's way. You look like shit."

"Yeah... You know, I think my job is actually literally killing me now. Like, maybe parts of my brain are starting to crumble from under use and before I know it I won't be able to form sentences at all…just add column a to column b and subtract column c."

"Quit then." "Maybe I will."

"You always say that. Fucking do it already."

"It's not that simple Effy," she sighed. "Can we talk about your day instead, please?" "It's been fabulous. Spent the morning arguing about Freud's ideas about developmental

psychology with a bunch of eighteen year olds. That guy was seriously fucked up about sex."

"Right up your alley then," smiled Emily. After lots of stops and starts Effy had finally found her way to university. She complained about it constantly, but it was obvious she loved it.

"How was my shithead brother this morning? Was he nervous?"

"Nah, you know Tone…confident as hell. Knows he looks good in a monkey suit too." Tony had a job interview with a big London daily newspaper. He'd spent the last two years working his arse off for the Bristol Evening Post, but if he got this job he'd be in a different league of journalism altogether. They'd stay in Bristol but it would mean two days a week he'd be away.

"Do you want him to get it?" Effy read her thoughts as usual.

"Yeah, of course! It's an amazing opportunity. And space is always good for us, we'll be fine." Emily checked her phone to see if he'd messaged any news yet. There was one text waiting for her. [_Wot's the name of the washing detergent I borrowed from you? I like the way my clothes smell.] _She found herself giggling, despite Effy's raised eyebrows.

"Good news then?"

"Oh, no it's not Tony. Just this random girl I met yesterday. She's an artist, invited me to come see her stuff." [_I don't know, some eco brand I bought 2 save the planet. Smells like green I reckon. It's nice 2 know we smell the same. Does that make us BFFs or something?]_

"Hey bitch. It's fucking rude to text other friends when you're sat in front of someone who's here in the flesh."

"Jealous?"

"Yeah. I thought I was your only friend. Loser. Who's the artist then?"

"Her name's Naomi. Ha, Naomi Campbell, it says in my phone…that's kind of funny." [_Fuck no, I barely know u. Stalker. Green is a colour, not a smell. Trust me, I'm an artist. Hey, did u really want to see my stuff? Cos a shitload is being packed off to gallery on Wed. Kind of tomorrow or never.]_

"Naomi Campbell? You're friends with _Naomi Campbell_? How the fuck did that happen?"

"Effy…not the supermodel you dimwit. Don't think she hangs out in Bristol laundrettes doing her own washing."

"Fuck off Em, Naomi Campbell the biggest selling artist under thirty-five in the UK? Single-handedly reviving the school of abstract expressionism?"

"Huh? When did you get all art wanky?"

"University of course," Effy rolled her eyes. "That and there was a full page Guardian spread on her last weekend, part of their 'Movers and Shakers' series…cos y'know…she's all blonde and photogenic and shit, so any excuse right? Her paintings are pretty amazing though. Never been much into that blobby paint crap, but her stuff is kind of cool in a weird way."

"She's like, famous then? Fuck…now I feel like a twat." "Why?"

"Well, I'm so uncultured obviously. I'd never even heard of her, so she must think I'm totally dim or something."

"Right…that's why she's invited you to come visit her studio. Fuck, Em, this article made a huge deal out of how difficult and reclusive she is, refusing interviews and only coming to half the gallery openings she's expected at and acting like an obnoxious bint when she does turn up. So if she hasn't taken your head off already, I reckon she thinks you're alright."

"So she lives up to her name then? As in, I better say yes or she'll come over and injure me with her mobile phone? Weird. She seemed pretty nice to me. Hang on, sorry-" [_I hate ultimatums. But okay. Name a time and yr address and I'll come by? I need to dress in black and drop lots of expensive words right? Just want 2 be prepared.]_

"Jesus…check you out, Em…hanging with the cool kids all of a sudden. Next thing you'll develop a coke habit turn up half naked in the society pages." _[Do that and you're out on your arse. Come by at 7.]_

"Now you definitely sound jealous."

"Tone?" Emily dropped her bag on the couch. "You home?" she kicked off her uncomfortable heels and walked over to the note on the dining table. _Having a drink with Sid. Home soon. Rocked the interview. Going to conquer the world, Red. Wait up for me. T. _She sighed. Her day had left her in strong need of a hug. She rehung her work clothes and climbed straight into a pair of old pink pyjamas Katie had left behind at their parents' place and Emily had secretly adopted. She stared into the fridge for a while before pulling out pots and pans and starting to cook. She'd meant to make a meal for one - her tiredness and feeling of abandonment making her want to punish her boyfriend for his absence. But as always, she managed to cook far too much, so she made up three bowls and left two in the fridge, just incase Sid showed up as he tended to always manage whenever she'd cooked. She ate hers in front of the television to drown out the silence of the apartment, then poured herself a glass of wine and took her book out on the balcony to read. A drunken argument between two men on the street, combined with the cold evening air

and the smell of the exhaust fumes soon drove her inside. She washed her face, brushed

her teeth and climbed into bed, far too early, burying her face in the softness of their freshly washed sheets. _Does so smell like green._


	5. Chapter 4

_Bloody __hell this was a long day. _It hadn't helped that she'd been woken up at three a.m. by two drunken boys falling over themselves in the living room, saying "Shhhh!" to each other constantly, before they'd forget again, laughing uproariously. Eventually Emily had wandered out to grumble sleepily at them to go to bed. Tony had passed out next to her almost instantly, after plastering her neck with hungry kisses. "Missed you Red. Wish you'd come out with us."

"You didn't invite me Tony. Figured it was dicks only night."

"Never. What'd be the point in that?" she tried not to think about the implication of that particular sentiment, and eventually fell asleep facing the window, avoiding the exhalations of his beer scented breath. Sid had crashed on the couch and Emily nearly kicked him when she got up to make herself breakfast and found the empty milk carton resting next to his head. Nights like this used to be few and far between, at least after the first few months that they'd been back in Bristol anyway, while Tony and Sid had made up for their years apart. _Like long lost lovers those two sometimes_. But in recent weeks the frequency had increased again. Emily wasn't sure what to make of it; they'd have to talk about it, she supposed. Though if Tony got the new job it would probably resolve on it's own. He definitely wasn't one to skip on hard work….ambitious sod that he was.

She looked at the time. Barely three o'clock. Jesus christ. She checked her inbox for any new tasks. Nothing. Her desk was clear as well. With a sudden smile she opened internet explorer and typed 'naomi campbell artist' into the search bar. Hundreds of hits came up, including enough glamour shots that she knew her laundromat girl really was who Effy had claimed. She flicked through a couple of the articles. Mostly art critics falling all over themselves in praise of 'Britain's bold new star' and several sour detractors claiming she was a fraud and an upstart who didn't know the first thing about painting. Naomi seemed pretty good at pissing people off, she saw quickly; the articles by both her supporters and her detractors peppered their arguments with the small selection of quotes that existed from the young artist, often using the same quote to support a completely different interpretation of her worth.

"_Art schools exist for the teachers, not the students. The critics and failures amongst us want to immortalise themselves through their stamp on someone else's work. Art should be about self-expression, not what someone else told you was correct. If you know what __you __want to say then you're already set. Cos once you master finger painting at age three, you've got all the skills you really need. Save your money. Tell them to go fuck themselves."_

Emily smiled. No wonder people were getting antsy. Naomi's work was described by her fans as 'D.I.Y, grassroots, punk, authentic,' and Emily's personal favourite 'an undiluted expression of the id unleashed.' Mostly though, it kind of seemed like Naomi liked to just splash about, and didn't really care who got else wet. It was attractive and repellent at the same time. And it made Emily jealous.

There were plenty of images of Naomi's work online, but after a cursory glance at a couple she decided not to go there. She could see already that they were big, bright and not intended to be viewed on a fifteen inch screen. Besides, she'd see them with her own

eyes tonight. She wondered what those overly educated, highly articulate art critics would think about the idea of Emily Fitch, the accountant, getting to have her say first on the hotly awaited new works from Naomi Campbell before they even hit the galleries. She laughed softly, for the first time that day. Then she saw the price-tags and choked mid- laugh. _Fuckin' hell. I can't believe she let me pay for her coffee_.

.

.

She knocked somewhat timidly on the battered wooden door, just after seven. The entrance to Naomi's flat was down a cobbled side alley. Ivy sprawled up the red brick walls and the door was solid oak with an old wrought iron knocker. Emily was feeling downright apprehensive about the evening. Had she misjudged this girl? She'd seemed so relaxed and friendly the other day…down to earth and almost goofy. Now she'd been reliably informed from several different sources that Naomi was both cold and fiery, as well as temperamental, inaccessible and frankly, a little bit scary. It had been a long time since she'd made a new friend, and now she wasn't even sure exactly who was going to open this door. It opened a second later, and Emily was face to face with the woman whose intense expression and glamorous figure she'd scrutinised in a series of glossy black and white photographs online that afternoon. She was definitely in colour now, bright blonde hair escaping from behind her ears, pink bitten lips quirking in a pleased smile, and large blue eyes that looked, wait, _nervous?_

"You came," she leaned in and dropped a quick cheek kiss in greeting. _Ooh, great perfume._

"And I'm not even dressed in art wank black…hope you'll still let me in," Emily responded and Naomi's eyes flickered down over her outfit, her smile wavering slightly. _Was she overdressed or something?_

"Still don't look like an accountant to me," came the verdict, the smile returning cheekily. Emily frowned at her.

"I should fucking hope not. You going to let me freeze out here then?"

"Should have dressed better for the weather, shouldn't you?" she stood back and gestured inside. The comment paired with the raised eyebrows made Emily slightly self-conscious about the length of her skirt as she walked up the stairs ahead of the blonde. Naomi looked beautiful, in an effortless, thrown together kind of way that Emily imagined was probably part of the whole art star job description. She turned at the top of the stairs to find herself in a gigantic white space, so large and blank that the sparse, sober furniture felt completely dwarfed. Even the floorboards were painted white.

"Wow," she said, like a big dork. Naomi stepped past her and looked around as well.

"Yeah, I know. I almost don't notice it anymore. Kind of stark, isn't it?"

"Kind of," breathed Emily. It freaked her out slightly, though she didn't want to admit it. It was exactly like being in an art gallery, only there was nothing at all on the walls. Emily couldn't imagine just sitting on the couch and eating pizza, without feeling totally self-conscious, as if she was an installation piece herself and not a human being. Naomi caught the look on her face.

"It's how Alicia planned it. That's my girlfriend. She owns a couple of galleries but sometimes she likes to have private exhibitions here. And in between times she thinks it's wrong to have any other art on the walls. Keeps telling me she likes my work better when it's just mine. Like, if you see a piece of art every day when you're eating your toast it's going to subconsciously sneak in there and change your focus."

"Do you believe that?" Emily asked. Naomi turned away and walked towards a corner that made up an elegant and discrete kitchen of sorts and opened a white cupboard housing an impressive looking wine rack. "I mean, I'm no artist, but surely everything around you influences you in one way or another, and other people's art is just a part of that."

Naomi threw a small smile over her shoulder while she opened one of the bottles and poured two glasses. She came back and handed one to Emily, then taking the bottle with her as well she replied, "Well yeah. So that's why I hang out and eat my toast in here instead," she turned and lead Emily up another flight of stairs. The white door at the top opened onto a blaze of mess and colour so bright that Emily's eyes almost watered at the contrast as she stepped through into the studio.

Completely speechless, she stopped stock still and looked around her. Huge canvases dominated every wall, filled with so much colour and detail it was impossible to take it in. One entire wall was made up of windows with a view out over the city, though even the window panes were used to wedge scraps of drawings and random splodges of paint on card. There were three long tables jumbled with smaller canvases, paints, brushes, various other tools of the trade, books, wisps of stray tobacco, a discarded joint, several empty wine bottles, and assorted plates and glasses. There was an old beat-up sofa covered in vintage cushions, at least eight different mismatched chairs and countless battered looking lamps. The floorboards were bare except for splashes and drips of yet more paint. Emily turned around slowly in the middle of the room, her jaw practically on the ground as she tried to take it all in. Naomi started to laugh, and Emily looked over to see the blonde surveying her with amusement.

"Take your time," was all she said, before pulling up a seat and propping her elbows up on one of the tables. She seemed to be intending on watching her guest as she looked at her paintings for the first time. Emily wasn't sure if it was an ego thing, or what, but she didn't really have time to be intimidated by her. The work around the walls demanded attention and for the next quarter of an hour she almost forgot the person who'd created it was even there in the room, as she lost herself in a world of pure colour.

It was dazzling, but when her eyes adjusted, she realised the pieces weren't as abstract as she'd first thought. Recognisable shapes appeared in places, some were repeated and some morphed into the illogical, until Emily wasn't sure if she'd seen them at all. It was like being inside a dream. A couple of the pieces were frightening; the longer she looked at them the more convinced she became they were actually landscapes, but everything in them that should be familiar was badly off balance and slightly sickening. It made her shiver slightly. But most of the paintings (though Emily couldn't begin to explain how or why they stirred her this way) filled her up with a kind of energy that made her feel giddy. Maybe it was to do with the sheer scope of work - Naomi must have required ladders to complete them - but she felt actually, physically heated by her response. Her heart pounded. They made her feel intensely _hopeful _somehow, like maybe there was a chance to be understood by others after all, or new ways to be deeply connected with other people. They awoke in her an understanding of the fragility of absolutely everything…herself, humanity, and how terrifyingly precious everything was, until her eyes stung with tears. _Fucking hell…_

She suddenly remembered her audience and spun around to face the artist herself, her mouth opening to try and tell her, explain what she felt. Naomi scrunched up her nose and held up a finger to stop her. "Don't," she said, her eyes glowing. "Seriously, don't talk about it. Your face is enough." Her smile was almost incandescent then, transforming her completely and Emily stood still for a second contemplating the person who'd held all that inside her, before letting it out to be seen by the world. All this was going to be packed up in boxes, put on walls and stared at by strangers. Critics were going to dissect it, intellectualise it, explain it all to pieces and tell people what to think. Emily understood instantly why Naomi hated having it talked about. It was her insides on display. She felt a strong urge to wrap her arms around the slender figure in front of her. Instead she remembered her untouched wine still in her hand and took a large gulp, then moved over and sat on the sofa, leaning back to gaze around her again and just soak it all in.

When she looked back at Naomi again, the blonde was staring intently at her own fingers as she toyed with the stem of her half empty glass, frowning at some kind of private internal battle. Emily wondered if she too were contemplating the soon to be arriving packing crates. "Hey," she called softly, interrupting the blonde's tense reverie. The blue eyes flicked up to look at her again, her troubled expression disappearing as she met her eyes and smiled. She stood up and crossed the room towards her, taking a seat on the sofa beside her. Her feet were bare, Emily noticed and as she curled up against the cushions, she tucked them beneath her for warmth. _She's tiny_! she suddenly thought with surprise, though it was only in comparison to her huge creations looming around them.

A new silence grew steadily between them, moving from comfortable at the beginning, all the way through awkward, until it took on a life of it's own, large, tense and obvious. Emily had no idea where it came from, or what it meant, but she decided to break it before she bit through her own lip in confusion.

"It feels to me like an undiluted expression of the id unleashed," she began, deliberately ignoring the way Naomi's eyes almost popped out of her head. "You really capture the fissions and fusions of our unmoored age through a kaleidoscopic energy-" a couch cushion suddenly hit her in the face, "- and the paint strokes really seem to strive to bring about the satisfaction of our instinctual human needs-" Naomi's hand clamped down over her mouth and she nearly spilt her wine as she struggled free, "-subject to the observance of the pleasure principle," she finished, tears of laughter streaming down her cheeks.

"Bitch!" gasped Naomi, shoving her shoulder roughly, causing her to slump against the arm of the sofa, giggling helplessly at the look on the blonde's face. "Smart-arsed little _bitch!"_

"Found you out, huh? Struggling fucking artist, my arse. You let me pay for your coffee and everything!" Naomi's face was red, but she smirked at her anyway.

"Yeah well, you seemed pretty happy to make assumptions about me, so I let you think what you wanted to think."

"You must think I'm so fucking clueless…" Emily felt her own smile slip away. "Is that why you invited me here, to show me up?" The thought had been nagging at her ever since Effy had enlightened her about her new acquaintance's true identity. Honestly though…why the fuck was this girl even interested in her company? _She's totally one of the cool kids _just like Effy had teased her. She was way out of her league right now, and she didn't like the feeling. Naomi regarded her seriously.

"Emily…I don't give a shit if people have heard of my name or not. You freaked me out a little in the laundrette actually, when you picked me out as an artist. For a second I thought it was cos of that fucking weird Guardian article that had my photo plastered all over it. I was fucking relieved when it turned out you were just observant," she smiled awkwardly. Then suddenly she sighed. "Look…I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, it's just that recently I've found myself moving in really weird circles…all these people around me just want to kiss my arse and I can't get a real opinion out of anyone anymore. You're different. You're…honest and direct. I like you- I mean, I like that."

The blonde girl turned away and refilled the glasses they'd both somehow emptied in the last five minutes. Emily could feel the flush of the wine on her cheeks, and Naomi's eyes seemed slightly glazed. A strange feeling crept over her until suddenly Emily felt a strong need to move away from the woman beside her. She stood up rapidly and began to move around the room again, hiding her expression by examining the little sketches and scribbled notes around the tables, before moving on to the bigger pieces that seemed unfinished or abandoned. She noticed an easel in the corner, facing away from the main part of the studio and walked around to examine the canvas it held. She heard, rather than saw Naomi start slightly as she did so, her eyes being too drawn in by the intensity of the colours to look up.

"Careful Emily, that ones not dry yet. It's not finished either, so maybe just-"

"It's beautiful," she interrupted. There was something powerful about it, in the strong, sensual movement of the rich reds, and earthy browns all glimmering with light, and yet something achingly sad as well. Something that twisted like a knife and a small hint of blue and white gold, black and emerald green appearing here and there, almost drowning in all the red. Something about it tugged at her chest. "Do you name your works?" she asked, wanting a clue. "Like titles or anything?"

"Sometimes," came the faint reply. She looked up to see Naomi's face was tilted away, she seemed lost in thought, or distracted again.

"What are you going to call this one?"

"I don't know. _Desire, _I think."

.


	6. Chapter 5

_Last night had been fucking disastrous _thought Naomi. She'd wanted…fuck knows what she'd wanted, but she'd _hoped _maybe that seeing Emily again and spending a bit of time with her would kill the sense of mystery slightly. She'd turn out to be just another cute girl and nothing more dangerous than that. Letting her look at her artwork was sort of a litmus test. She was so used to seeing people respond to it by now that she'd be able to read her instantly. Maybe she'd see polite interest, her features carefully arranged to look intelligent and thoughtful, or just a blank lack of comprehension in her eyes. Instead, Naomi had felt her belly ache return with a vengeance, as Emily's face had instantly lit up. _Radiant_, was how the small redhead had looked as she totally absorbed herself in the paintings, leaving Naomi feeling utterly invisible. It was a strange sensation. Recently, as her reputation had suddenly exploded she'd felt like everyone was staring at _her _and not her work. She felt like someone had painted prices all over her skin as the calculating eyes ran over her, their backs to her art. Yet here she was, being ignored right out of existence as this new girl gave the whole of her attention to the canvases.

Unfortunately her new-found invisibility also gave her free reign to stare at the girl, without remotely having to pretend that she wasn't. So she'd noticed then, the way Emily's chest rose and fell as her breath began to speed up. She'd memorised the way she sucked that perfect bottom lip into her mouth in concentration, the slow downward glide of her eyelashes, the curve of her throat as she leaned back to look up, and just a tiny glimpse of her tongue as it darted out to wet her lips. And now she was stuck, replaying each image in her mind over and over again. _This isn't good._

Her name was called and she thankfully grabbed her cup of takeaway coffee and walked back out into the scattered sunlight of the park. She continued to walk, her feet crunching on the gravel path, letting her thoughts wash over her. Okay…so there was a small lust issue developing. No big deal. She would never cheat on Alicia; she almost snorted at the thought. Her girlfriend was fucking incredible. Sometimes Naomi would look across a crowded room and watch her as she conversed, all eyes on the group glued to her, and she'd be struck by the absolute improbability of someone like Alicia even noticing her existence. _I mean, for one thing, she's a grown-up_, she grinned to herself. She was so beautiful, frighteningly intelligent and sophisticated that Naomi had been terrified of her when they'd first met. Of course, she hadn't shown it, instead resorting to her usual default mode for when she felt threatened - surly, snarly and stand-offish. She'd been taken completely by surprise when the older woman had responded by immediately asking her out to dinner.

Two years later and she owed Alicia pretty much everything. Not only had she financed her first big show, but her connections were everywhere. _The lesbian mafia, _as Naomi liked to call them. And thanks to Alicia's shrewd management, Naomi's complete lack of engagement with the politics and hierarchies of the art world had somehow been subverted into a marketing tool. She had herself a _reputation _and suddenly they were lining up around the block. She sort of hated it…well no, she actually hated it. But it had released her from her world of day jobs and glassy-eyed rejection, and allowed her total free reign to work however and whenever she fucking felt like it. So it was a trade-off she lived with, particularly since it required nothing more of her than being completely herself.

This morning she'd woken up still on the studio sofa, but Alicia must have come up to see her when she'd gotten home in the middle of the night, since a blanket had materialised over her body. Naomi had wrapped it around herself and wandered down into their apartment to find her and kiss her good morning, but Alicia was already gone for the day. She missed her when she worked this way. There was a hell of a lot of long hours put into a big exhibition opening like the one being planned for her…yet another thing she had to be grateful to Alicia for. Naomi sighed and sat down on a park bench in the sun, stretching out her legs and continuing to think.

Emily had left pretty late. They'd finished the bottle of wine together and the redhead had quizzed her about her work, wanting to know the technicalities of it, laughing when Naomi had grabbed some paint and demonstrated she really hadn't been kidding about the finger painting business. _Showing off_, was what she'd been doing. It was only now, looking back, that she realised they'd barely talked about Emily at all. She wasn't sure if that was mostly due to a self-protective streak in her that had refused to let her act on her growing interest, or because of Emily's skilful deflection. So, she was still a mystery…a gorgeous, silky skinned, brown eyed puzzle she was longing to unlock. _Fuck, this had to stop. _Nothing had happened exactly; they'd said goodnight, without even any mention from either of them about hanging out again. It had been on the tip of her tongue to suggest another drink sometime, or a film maybe, but every time she thought about how to phrase it she felt exactly like she was asking Emily out. So she'd simply waved goodbye and closed the door after her.

**.**

**.**

The thing that scared her most was the tongue-tied silence that had caught up with them on the sofa. She'd argued with herself not to go and sit next to her, because of the unbidden image that kept coming to her of pinning the girl up against the cushions in a hungry, desperate kiss. But when Emily had looked at her, with growing confusion on her face, she remembered of course, that Emily was _straight_. This was safe. Only when she'd actually gone and sat next to her, she'd deteriorated into a kind of almost pre-pubescent level of shyness that surgically removed every part of her brain that was articulate and intelligent or apparently even verbal. Luckily Emily had chosen that exact moment to call her out on her bullshit and save the day. But Naomi wondered still what the fuck the girl had thought of her behaviour…the weird awkwardness and the longing she knew was coming off her in waves. _She must have fucking noticed. _Then after the teasing and laughing and feeling Emily's lips fucking move under her fingers before the conversation turned serious, their eyes had met. Just for a split second. _But_s_omething sparked. _And all of a sudden Emily had bolted right off the couch to get away from it. Naomi had felt sick, partly at her own excruciating embarrassment and partly at her own disappointment. Another five seconds of that and she'd probably just have fucking kissed her. _No. No way. Would I?_

That was when she realised. She couldn't see the girl again. Not without a serious risk of things getting really fucked up. She wouldn't call her, wouldn't text her. She'd delete her fucking number in fact. After all, this was what growing up was about, right? Resisting temptation, swallowing impulses, keeping consequences in mind. Alright then. It was over. She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Emily!" she cried out suddenly, as the girl appeared part way across the park. The redhead kept walking, probably just out of earshot. Wow…that was totally not how she imagined accountant Emily to look..._that's a seriously fucking short skirt. _Wrapped around her wrist was a bright pink leash, the other end of which was attached to a small white fluffy dog. Naomi was halfway over to her before she was even conscious of what she was doing. "Hey!" she greeted her, hating the eager way her voice sounded. Emily shot her a cool stare.

"Hi," she said shortly and kept walking. Naomi stopped her in her tracks, several metres away. _What the fuck? _Emily stopped suddenly with an exasperated sigh, to rummage in her bag and produce a little plastic bag and scoop up a small turd that had appeared from under her dog. There was a look of serious disdain on her face and a surprisingly large expanse of cleavage on display.

"Um, what's up?" she heard herself asking, moving tentatively closer. The dog yapped at her in an ear-splitting tone, pulling her up short. _Watch it midget, you're seriously fucking kickable. _Emily knotted the bag and held it away from her with disgust, throwing a brief glare at her over her shoulder as she kept moving.

"Dog shit, is what's up," is all she said, marching over towards a bin in her sky-high stilettos, dropping the little deposit and pausing to squirt the entire contents of a small container of hand sanitiser over her slender hands, before turning to see that Naomi was still watching her. "_What?" _she snapped irritably, before rolling her eyes and walking off through the park. Naomi's hands started shaking. _Well that answered that fucking question, _she growled at herself in fury. _Wine wore off and she doesn't want another thing to do with the creepy, staring, gay lady now does she? _She stomped back to the park bench and whipped out her phone, deleting Emily's number and angrily wiping the cute messages she'd read too many times already. She'd misjudged that girl dramatically. There was no light in her eyes, no radiant glow coming off her skin. Not to mention she was absolutely without a doubt the straightest girl alive. _Looked like a total tart in those clothes anyway._

In a way it was good, she told herself. She'd have no issues cutting her right the fuck out of her life now. Everything was saved.


	7. Chapter 6

A week passed. The whole thing was a bit of a head fuck for her at first. Those unexplainable feelings that Emily had stirred in her had been so strange and intense…then she'd suddenly gone and revealed herself to be a stuck up, cold-eyed, snotty little bitch and forced Naomi to realise just how fucking crazy she'd been acting over a complete and utter stranger. A stranger with a goddamn split personality as well, since the very next day Emily had texted her as if nothing had happened. [_Hey, I had fun the other nite. Kind of inspired me actually. Think I'm goin 2 buy some paint and just go nuts on our bland apartment walls. What u reckon?]_

Jesus christ. She'd ignored her, obviously. _Think she can blank me like that when I'm not convenient. Who the fuck does she think she is? _The following day, she got another one. _[You ok? Guess yr works have been shipped out by now…u busy creating? Would luv 2 see it. Get in touch if u want 2 go for a drink sometime x] _No way. Get. The. Fucking. Message. She stomped around her sadly barren studio in a grouch for the next two days, waiting for the new blank canvases to arrive and trying not to check her phone every few minutes. No more messages came. _And fuck you too._

Alicia disappeared for a couple of days as well - their only contact consisting of notes left behind, missed calls, and one quick, hungry, stolen fuck as her girlfriend returned mid- afternoon to pack her bags for another overnight in London. Naomi now officially hated everything about this exhibition. And she couldn't help the nagging feeling that Alicia was being secretive somehow...as if she was hiding something from her. Naomi shook her head to clear her thoughts. She knew it was just a side effect from her own guilt over those brief secret feelings she'd had for someone else other than her girlfriend. _I can't be trusted, so neither can she? Get your shit together Naomi…_

She took a deep breath in, steeling herself, before walking into the restaurant and giving her name to the maitre d', who escorted her to the table and pulled out a chair opposite the slim, annoyingly beautiful young man with the pretentious glasses. He stood up, shaking her hand firmly, thanking her for coming. _Alright Al, she muttered internally. I'll play the game. Just this one fucking interview. _She smiled fakely at the art journo. "What did you say your name was?"

"Freddie," he said eagerly. "Freddie McLair. I really appreciate you meeting with me Ms. Campbell, I know you're not a fan of art critics, but we're not all bad, I promise you." Naomi managed not to roll her eyes. It wasn't the poor guy's fault she was in such a bad mood, but she had a feeling this wasn't going to go too well for him.

**.**

**.**

She took the train home afterwards, feeling thoroughly irritated with Alicia. Not only had she insisted that Naomi go all the way to bloody London and back to meet that gormless journalist, thus taking up her whole fucking day, but she'd also told her she didn't have time to meet with her, even though they were both in the same fucking city. She'd refused Naomi's suggestion that she stay overnight in Alicia's hotel room, pleading her long hours, constant meetings and total exhaustion in response. She'd catch up with her back in Bristol. Naomi tried not to be suspicious. But something wasn't adding up. Her girlfriend wasn't fucking having an affair. _Was she?_

It was seven o'clock in the evening before she finally arrived back in Bristol. Walking down the laneway to her front door, she paused suddenly in alarm. Music was floating out into the street and looking up she could see lights blazing through the open windows of their apartment. The front door was ajar. Frowning, she pushed it open, only to have it held the rest of the way back by a tuxedo clad, skinny, bearded guy she'd never met. "Welcome!" he exclaimed, gesturing with his arm and inviting her into her own fucking house. "Congratulations, by the way. Simply amazing. I'm absolutely honoured to be here."

She stared him down until he blanched. "What the fuck are you doing in my house, wanker?"

Without waiting for a response, she pushed past him and up the stairs towards the sound of wine glasses tinkling and voices raised in laughter and conversation. Stopping at the top and turning to see who the invaders were, her breath caught in her throat. The room was filled with at least a hundred people, including waiting staff moving around with trays of champagne flutes. Her hand whipped out instantly to grab a passing glass. A fucking exhibition night, what the hell was Alicia playing at? Her eyes flew around the walls. _My work. _Suddenly people started turning and staring at her, then the whole room erupted in deafening applause. A tantrum began to brew inside her, but she caught sight of Alicia standing off to one side, looking pleased as she saw her girlfriend's flushed face, clearly mistaking the emotion being conveyed there. _Okay, great, not an affair then. _She bowed cheesily to the crowd, raised her glass and necked it. More applause. She considered mooning them as well, just to see their response to that, but she held herself in check.

**.**

**.**

"Fucking hell babe," she kissed Alicia's cheek, when she finally managed to make her way through the annoying throng of well wishers. "Could have warned me. I'd have…dressed better," she frowned down at herself. Alicia's green eyes sparkled as she tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear and smiled at her.

"You look gorgeous. You always look gorgeous. And if I'd warned you, you'd have pissed off and not come back at all, and you know it." Naomi kissed her girlfriend softly to avoid replying to that one.

"What's this about then? Shouldn't this stuff be in London already?" she waved her arms vaguely at the huge works all around them.

"Might of lied to you…just a little bit," Alicia smiled, stroking her hand softly across Naomi's lower back. "It's not actually opening there for another week. I just thought…I know you hate opening nights, but this collection really is something else…it's fucking special, Naomi. You should be celebrating it, not grumbling away to yourself in the corner like I know you will be when we get to London. Just…relax, enjoy it, tonight's just about you and your friends."

"_My _friends?" she asked before she could help herself. Alicia shot her a sharp look. "Sweetie, they _are _your friends as well, no matter what you might think about them. Everyone I invited is just here to support you. Besides," she sighed at Naomi's lack of response, "that one's got to be one of yours."

Naomi looked over to where she was pointing. Through the sea of black designer clothes, someone was wandering around in slightly ripped jeans and a bright green vest. That wasn't what caught her eyes though. It was the long, gleaming red hair that did that.

**.**

**.**

Downing the rest of her glass and grabbing another one on her way, she pushed through the crowd, "Scuse me, yeah thanks, great to see you too, sorry, scuse me." It wasn't exactly the subtle arrival she'd have preferred, but Emily still jumped slightly when Naomi finally made it over to her, a glowing smile appearing when she turned at the sound of her name. And that was despite the ferocious glower Naomi had worked up in preparation.

"Wanker," Emily greeted her.

"Excuse me?"

"Wearing black at your own exhibition opening? Bit hypocritical of you," she eyed Naomi's outfit and raised her eyebrows.

"Believe it or not, I didn't know about it. Sort of a surprise party actually. Who invited you?" she asked bluntly. Emily looked sheepish.

"No one. I just…you haven't replied to my messages and I wondered why. I thought I'd drop by and demand an explanation….that and check you were alright. Some weird guy let me in. Looked a bit like Jesus?"

"What the fuck is your problem?"

"Um…sorry?"

"Look Emily, I don't play games alright? I fucking…I liked you; I thought you were different. Then you end up being this two-faced, rude little cow and I just don't have time for more bullshit alright? You disappointed me." Naomi put every single shard of ice she could into that last line, and Emily stiffened, her face flushing instantly.

"I _disappointed _you?" her tone was incredulous. "What, are you my mother or something? Fuck you Naomi Campbell. Jesus christ, I guess all those journalists were right about you after all…god, though everyone here seems to be lapping that shit up. This _artistic temperament _business might drive your prices up but it's not going to win you any fucking _friends_." Her brown eyes burned with distaste as she met Naomi's gaze for a few seconds. "I won't bother you again," she told her quietly, then she disappeared amongst the crowd.

"Naomi…darling, this is all simply divine!" a woman leaned in, air kissing in the general region of her suddenly flaming cheeks. "Now tell me about this piece, because I was saying to Antonia just a _moment _ago that it's highly reminiscent of the early work of a young-"

"Sorry, I'm a bit busy at the second…scuse me, um, sorry, scuse m- jesus, _MOVE!" _Naomi finally caught the redhead by the elbow just as she reached the bottom of the stairs. "Emily, wait…"

The girl just glared at her and pulled her arm free, stepping out into the alley, backing away as she spoke. "What?"

"Can we…can we go somewhere?"

Emily just stared at her. "Where?" she said finally.

"Anywhere."

**.**

**.**

Emily though - the stubborn little bitch - had flat out refused to go anywhere with her at all. Naomi had wanted to escape with her, just fucking…take off, go somewhere quiet and beautiful, maybe smoke a joint or drink some fucking vodka and just…talk. Instead they'd stood in the laneway, arguing about it for a full minute, until Naomi rolled her eyes and pulled her further down the little side street, turning the corner and pointing her towards the small wrought iron ladder that lead up over the top of the brick wall before disappearing. Emily looked slightly intrigued despite herself, so Naomi felt fairly safe in leading the way. Sure enough, after she'd walked along the ledge and climbed to the top of the fire escape, Emily wasn't far behind her. Jiggling firmly with the window catch, she held it open for the redhead and they both climbed down into her studio.

Emily looked about her with a small grin of surprise. Then she remembered she wasn't doing the smiling thing at this particular moment in time and turned to Naomi with her hands on her hips and began her demands. "Do you mind telling me what all this is about please?"

Naomi gave her a long look. She couldn't fucking work this girl out. Everything that had drawn her to Emily in the first place was back…_god, those eyes_…she even liked the way they'd looked flashing dark with anger…_fucking sexy…NO…god, focus Naomi, _she exhaled loudly in frustration. Quickly she thought about that awful fluffy white excuse for a dog, and her own glare quickly returned. "The other day in the park. What the fuck was that about? You treated me like I was a piece of shit you'd just scraped off your shoe."

"_What?" _Emily looked at her, as if thoroughly confused. "What day in the park?"

"Oh, great tactic Emily. Just pretend like it didn't happen."

"Naomi…god, you _really _fucking need to stop smoking so much pot."

"Well yeah, obviously. Just this journalist this afternoon got me really fucking stoned and- hey, fuck you, that was hours ago! And that's got nothing to do with the fact that, frankly you dress like a total skank when you're being an accountant and who the _fuck _would choose a horrible little dog like that anyway? I don't get it. It's like you're two entirely different people!"

Emily sat down abruptly and started to cry. No, she wasn't crying - she was laughing…hysterically in fact, tears appearing on her cheeks. "Oh my god Naomi…" she was practically pissing herself, gasping for breath. Naomi stayed standing, not quite sure quite how to react to Emily's third personality - the insane lunatic one - appearing out of nowhere. "Fucking hell…" the redhead spluttered, wiping at her eyes. "You're right about that, actually. The thing is, I…" she cracked up again, before a serious expression appeared on her face, and she announced solemnly, "I have an evil twin." Then she completely lost her shit.

"Well now. That's a perfect excuse." Naomi rolled her eyes. "Grow up Emily…"

"Naomi, I'm serious. Jesus…I have a twin. Her name's Katie, she's basically a professional WAG, she's got a pomeranian called Paris and _fuck you_, I can't believe you thought she was me! What, are you blind?"

"A twin?"

"And we look _nothing _alike! What did she say to you?"

"Well nothing nice obviously," she said pointedly. "I never got closer than about ten metres away cos of that horrible little hairy ferret thing she was walking," she explained in her defence. _A fucking twin? _Suddenly she felt really fucking stupid. Emily looked up at her, biting her lip at Naomi's face. She cracked up again, and a small snort escaped from Naomi as well. She slumped down on the couch beside her, not daring to catch her eye. Then Emily jabbed her in the ribs and they both laughed themselves sick.

**.**

**.**

An hour and one last roll of Freddie's pot later, Naomi gasped. "Shit Ems, we have to go downstairs. Alicia's going to kill me."

"Ems?" Ems smiled up at her from her position right next to her on the couch, and Naomi started to giggle. "Oh no, don't you start that again," the redhead grinned. _Fuck she's adorable when she's stoned. Uh oh…keep your hands to yourself Ems, _she warned the redhead internally, as Emily leaned in and poked her ribs again.

"Come on," she stood up, swaying slightly with the head rush. Emily watched her for a second, and then stood too.

"Woah…" she croaked, hanging onto Naomi's shoulder for balance. They stood there together, carefully readjusting to being upright. Then they caught each other's serious look of concentration and fell apart laughing again.

"Right…" breathed Naomi, gripping Emily's wrist and leading her to the door. They stumbled down the stairs together. The art appreciation society were all still there in force, their voices now raised loudly in a cacophony of champagne infused chatter. _Fucking hell this room is bright. _Naomi glanced at Emily and wondered if her own face was as flushed and giddy looking as the redhead's. She certainly hoped her own hair wasn't that mussed. As she reached up to check, she caught sight of Alicia's face, turning up to look at the two girls on the stairs. She looked hard at Naomi for a second and then she started to frown.

.


	8. Chapter 7

Emily knew she had an insane smile on her face, but she couldn't quite help it. She hadn't smoked weed since college, mostly because of how it turned her into a goofy, brainless idiot. She usually hated feeling like she was remotely out of control. But somehow with Naomi she hadn't stopped to bother about the fact that she was talking total crap, since the blonde had just cracked up at everything that came out her mouth like it was fucking genius. _Waster. _She giggled again, but Naomi didn't join her this time. She dropped Emily's wrist suddenly and continued down the stairs. Emily followed her. They reached the bottom and noticing how fucking dry her mouth was, she reached for a glass of champagne as it conveniently paraded passed her, gulping thirstily at it as soon as it reached her lips. Naomi did the same.

She'd never felt paranoid smoking weed in the past, but she couldn't shake the idea that they were being stared at. Lots of sets of eyes were on Naomi…but then she was supposed to be centre of attention tonight, wasn't she? Emily's discomfort increased and she giddily scanned the room until she found the source of it. A dark haired woman to the left of her was looking over at them with a distinct spark of anger, her beautiful green eyes flicking from Naomi to Emily and back again. Emily smiled at her awkwardly, but - _argh stupid pot - _she felt it turn immediately into a vacant giggle. _Shit_. Now the woman was walking towards them with definite intent. Naomi had started on a second glass of champagne and she raised her head almost defiantly as she watched the woman approach.

"Well hello there, darling," she slid both of her slim tanned arms around Naomi's waist, possessively. _Ohhh, the girlfriend! _"What _have _you been up to?"

She was so…poised and sophisticated, amazingly dressed and definitely older that Emily suddenly felt like a little kid in comparison. And a bland one at that. _An accountant child. _The thought made her giggle again, and the woman turned her head and gave her a smile that definitely wasn't friendly. "Who's your friend, Naomi? I don't believe we've met."

"This is Ems…Emily," Naomi's eyes were glazed over. She looked - almost - like she didn't have a care in the world. Her smile spread ridiculously, looking from one woman to the other. "Ems - Alicia, Alicia - Emsily," she started to giggle, and Emily snorted. Bad idea. Alicia's eyes became positively frosty.

"Naomi…you're a mess," she spoke quietly. "There are critics here, and press, and you're not fit to talk to anyone in this state." Naomi took a large, deliberate swig of her champagne, emptying the glass and leaning out to grab yet another, swaying slightly as she did.

"I thought you said tonight was supposed to be just fun, Al. Just about me and my _friends_," her speech wasn't slurring but it was overly careful and precise…a dead give away for someone working really fucking hard on _not _slurring.

"That's right Naomi. Tonight is all about you. Just like always." She turned to Emily. "She can't stay here like this, I'm afraid. Since you seem to have assisted her with getting into this condition in the first place, I'd appreciate it if you'd take care of it from here." Naomi rolled her eyes. Emily frowned in confusion.

"Take care…of it?"

"Just get her out of here."

"For fuck's sake Al…we were just having fun, why the fuck do you have to get all uptight and-"

"Not right now, alright?" Alicia's eyes were like cut glass. "We are _not _doing this now." Naomi looked back at her like she was about to argue, though Emily was glad when she didn't. Someone was about to lose an eye amongst all that glaring. The blonde finally just nodded, slowly, her eyes narrowing. Taking Emily by the arm she walked them firmly away through the crowd.

"You have beautiful lingerie…" Emily reassured the woman over her shoulder, trying to make it all better as she was towed towards the door.

**.**

**.**

"Come _on _Naomi!" Emily pulled at her hand, trying to get her back on her feet but Naomi pulled lazily back at her until the redhead crashed to the ground beside her. She gave up, and lay back beside the blonde on the grass in the park, looking up to where Naomi was gazing. The leaves were turning; there were splashes of red and gold waving in front of the bright white street light. It was mesmerising. Well, slightly mesmerising. She turned her head to examine Naomi who still seemed to be lost in the colours.

"Trees copying you Em," she mumbled.

"Huh?"

"Your hair, stupid," like that explained everything. Emily began to shiver, realising just how fucking cold the air was, not to mention the damp grass.

"Think the party will be over?" she asked her. "We should get you home…" Naomi sat up slightly and swigged back at the open bottle of champagne she'd discovered on the way out of the exhibition before passing it back to her.

"Don't want to go home," she said sadly, as Emily drank.

"Come back to mine then."

Naomi turned abruptly and looked at her for a long second, as if trying to work something out. Then her eyes dulled slightly and she started to laugh. "Oh Ems…Ems, Ems, Ems…"

"Alright drunkface…" she stood up and tried pulling at the reluctant blonde again. "Naomi, we can't stay here all fucking night!" She put her hands on her hips, the effect of her authoritative stance ruined as she stumbled slightly. Naomi sighed dramatically and clambered to her feet. Emily managed to wrestle the rest of the bottle off her and chuck it into the nearest bin.

"Spoil sport," Naomi complained. They staggered along the pavement together.

**.**

**.**

Emily fumbled and stabbed at her door with her keys for at least five minutes. The fucking lock kept moving around every time she got near it. Suddenly the door opened on its own and she pitched forward slightly, meeting with a warm familiar body. "Tony! The fucking door…have to get that fucking thing fucking fixed_…_the stupid fucker," she explained, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning her burning cheek against his chest.

"Ah…bit wasted are we, Red?" he kissed the top of her head then tried to lean her back to look at her face, but she clung to him.

"I resent the insinu…insinuation," she grumbled into his shirt. "I'm fucking…I'm perfectly fucking fine…Oh…Naomi!" she regained her balance and stood upright, turning to see the blonde leaning against the door frame, fixing Tony with what looked strangely like a glare of hatred.

"Oh, the boyfriend," she said flatly in greeting.

"Hello to you too."

"I've seen your jocks," she said sagely.

Tony grinned at the blonde. "They're nice aren't they? Will you be coming in then?"

"Spose," Naomi edged warily inside the apartment. Emily took her friend by the arm and they both tumbled onto the sofa. Emily closed her eyes for a second as Naomi slumped against her body. _Fucking walls fucking spinning. _When she opened them again, Tony was standing over them with a glass of water in each hand, smirking at the two swooning girls on his couch.

"What exactly have you done to my girlfriend?" he eyed Naomi curiously, as she blearily reached out for the glass.

"Don't you…don't you fucking look at her like that," Emily chuckled sleepily. Tony looked surprised.

"Like what, Red?"

"She's gay, Tony…got a beautiful girlfriend and everything, so she doesn't want you fucking leering at her, okay? Even if she is really hot."

Tony looked like he was fighting off another grin and failing. "Not so much my type babe. Got a thing for the redheads remember? Where have you been all night anyway? I was just starting to worry about you. Called Effs since you weren't answering your phone and she hadn't heard from you either."

"My phone?" Emily was confused. Her vision was starting to fade in and out. "Oh fuuuuuck, that's what that fucking _buzzing _was!" she arched slightly, making Naomi grumble irritably as she elbowed her, digging around in her jeans pocket and pulling out her phone. She squinted at it, pushing at the buttons and managed to make out the name 'Tony' several times on the screen. "Fuck sorry babe…we just…Naomi makes art y'know? Like, puts her beautiful insides out there. With champagne. And fucking lots of journalist weed and her girlfriend got angry about the lingerie. We were in the park," she clarified. "You see?"

"You think I'm hot," mumbled Naomi, jabbing her in the ribs.


	9. Chapter 8

_Ouch. _That was pretty much the full extent of Emily's brain function when her eyes first opened. Immediately she closed them again. A few minutes later a couple of other synapses began to fire up, elevating her to a higher state of consciousness which allowed her to think, _what the fuck is that awful noise? _Next came emotions…_I hate you, stop screaming, _then eventually neural control kicked in and her hand flung out to fumble for the source of the pain. The alarm clock issue victoriously conquered, Emily risked opening her eyes again. The alarm read 06:47. Light escaped through the cracks in the curtains, sending sharp rays of sunbeams into the bedroom. Right…her bedroom. How'd she gotten there again?

She rolled over to ask Tony and her eyebrows woke up as well, racing to the top of her head in surprise. There was a girl in her bed instead. Long blonde hair trailed over the pillow next to her and someone else's soft scent tickled her nose. Slowly the night flooded back to her. The last thing she remembered was collapsing on the couch next to Naomi, Tony chuckling away at the state of them. He must have put them both to bed, bless him. _Oh well, call that revenge, you big pisshead. _Emily mentally added up the amount of times she'd pulled Sid's shoes off for him, trying not to breathe in the scent of his smelly boy feet, before tucking him in with a blanket and leaving a glass of water on the floor next to the couch. She figured Tony would probably forgive her then.

Poor Naomi. What a fucking night. That girlfriend…Alicia, now she was something else. Emily dreaded the idea of running into her again. _That snooty bitch. _The uncharitable thought took her by surprise. Naomi's girlfriend had been justifiably angry of course, going to all those lengths to arrange a huge surprise party, only to have the guest of honour fuck off and get wasted, ignore all the other invitees and swagger around starting arguments. It was just…they had just…Emily was pretty convinced that they hadn't done anything wrong, had they? A big event like that sprung on her, being told off like a child…Naomi had just needed to be allowed to relax a bit. Alicia was so…serious, not at all what Emily had imagined Naomi's girlfriend would be like. Naomi should be with someone who let her just _be_, not keep on trying to control her like that.

It was sort of weird how intensely disappointed she'd been when Naomi had disappeared on her. She'd felt pretty stupid for a while after her messages had been ignored, worrying about what she'd done wrong and when. _I thought she liked me_, she'd kept thinking to herself. _We had fun together. _She'd gotten angry then, at being picked up and tossed aside so easily, hating the idea that Naomi constantly had people flocking to her, attracted by her magnetism, her fame. Not like boring little Emily Fitch…the quiet twin, the goddamn accountant. _Well fine…fuck you too. _Only she hadn't quite been able to let it go. If there was one thing everyone agreed about Emily, it was that she was loyal, often to a fault. Once she liked you, that was it, she didn't give up on you. And fuck it…she liked Naomi. Despite all the attention and notoriety, Emily _knew _Naomi was lonely. She needed someone to want her, just for herself, not for all the other trappings that made up her life. And Emily _did _want her. The girl could do with a real fucking friend.

She found her hand reaching out to stroke the soft blonde hair where it trailed out over her shoulder, as the girl lay curled away from her. She was still dressed in the black top from yesterday, the one that cut away leaving her back exposed. Her skin was vulnerable and perfect and Emily stopped her fingers just millimetres before they traced over that as well. She shrank back. "Fuck's sake," she murmured aloud. She turned and sat on the side of the bed, catching sight of her own startled looking eyes in the bedroom mirror. "What're you doing?" she quietly berated herself, and quickly tiptoed out into the safety of the bathroom.

Returning from her shower she made sure Naomi was still asleep, before getting changed at lightening speed, into her work clothes. After silently fussing with her make-up, she was just about gathering the last of her things to leave the room when Naomi suddenly sat bolt upright, looking worried. "Shit!" she blurted.

"Morning to you too," Emily replied, her tone dry, despite the sudden inner turmoil that hit her as she realised she wasn't going to be able to get away without making some form of eye contact. Naomi's head whipped around to see the source of the voice, and then she winced, holding her forehead.

"Fuuuck…" she collapsed back on the pillow looking pained.

"You always this eloquent first thing in the morning?" Emily asked, amused despite herself. The combination of the shower and the paracetamol she'd popped allowed her a certain level of smugness.

"I don't know - are you always this annoying?" returned Naomi, turning slightly in the bed to prop her head up on her elbow and eyeball her balefully. "I think I'm dying. Why aren't you dying?"

"Made of sterner stuff than you apparently. Besides, some of us have to work for a living," she said, turning and slipping her feet into her shoes. Naomi watched her with interest. "What?" she asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"Nothing," the blonde replied. "I actually quite like the accountant look, is all," she smirked. Emily looked down at her tightly fitted dress shirt, slim above-knee pencil skirt, stockings and heels and glared over at the tousled haired blonde in the bed.

"Leave me alone," she frowned, annoyed at yet another jibe about her stupid job. "I'm going to make some coffee."

"Yes please."

Emily tripped slightly on her way out the door, swore and kicked off her heels again before closing the bedroom door behind her. Tony started to laugh immediately from his position at the kitchen table. Despite his night on the couch he was already dressed for the day, looking crisp, gorgeous and perfect as always. "Yes?" she asked, in response to his amused look. "May I help you?"

Her boyfriend got up, brushing toast crumbs away from around his mouth and pinned her up against the kitchen bench. "You make a highly attractive wino," he informed her, reaching down to kiss her. She shoved him slightly for being a rude shit, but he just moved down kissing her neck instead, making her smile. "I've missed that," he told her.

"Missed what?"

"You…being silly, irresponsible, having fun…smiling, all of that."

"You think I'm not fun?"

"I know you're fun…" he flicked open the top button of her shirt, reaching down for the next one and she smacked his fingers away, even as she reached up and kissed him again.

"Got to get to work Tone…"

"I take it back. You're definitely not fun."

She shot him a stern look and turned away to make the coffee. "Toast babe?"

"Not sure I'd keep it down," she winced.

"Better try," he advised her, dropping a couple of pieces of bread into the toaster. Feeling slightly bolstered by her boyfriend's reassuringly easygoing banter, she carried one of the cups back to the bedroom, where Naomi seemed content to remain passed out.

"Hey," she nudged her, sitting on the edge of the bed and setting the cup on the bedside table. The blue eyes flickered open again before she let out another miserable sounding groan. "You going to be alright Naoms?" she asked, concerned. Naomi smiled at the shortening of her name.

"Yeah…never met a hangover that could actually kill me, so I reckon I'll survive."

"I meant…y'know…home. Alicia. Everything."

Naomi pulled herself slowly upright, hugging the duvet around her knees and looking small. She reached out for the cup of coffee and sipped, avoiding Emily's eyes. "Yeah, thanks. Just a squabble, we'll be fine." Suddenly her eyelashes flickered rapidly. "Um, Em…your top is, um-"

Emily looked down and realised quite how much of her was on view. Her fingers shot quickly to do up the button again, feeling her face flush. _Fucking Tony… _Naomi was busy examining the surface of her coffee, though for a second Emily thought it almost looked like she was smirking. She stood up, and started to make her way back to the door. Part way there she turned around and said "If you want to talk or anything…or just, get out for a bit, give me a call, alright?"

Naomi smiled up at her. "I'd like that," she said simply. "Um…I can let myself out yeah? Just need a few minutes to…gather my thoughts."

"S'okay. Take your time."

"You should get out of here. Those numbers won't crunch themselves."

**.**

**.**

Back in the kitchen she chewed half a corner of the toast Tony had made for her, before she frowned, putting it down again. "Eugh, sorry…" she said, scrunching her nose up and pushing the plate back at him. Without blinking he picked up a slice and dropped the whole thing in his mouth. _Boys._

"I like your friend," he told her as he swallowed. "Kinda feisty. She's good for you."

"God…I can't even remember what we talked about," Emily felt a little alarmed at her memory blanks.

"You were hilarious, the two of you. Both awfully obsessed with talking about other people's underwear for some reason though."

"Hmm. I wasn't…I didn't say anything…stupid did I?" she worried. Tony laughed.

"Nope. You were the epitome of elegance and discretion, as always," he reassured her.

She snorted, but felt relieved.

"Will you be home tonight though?" asked Tony, as if just taking it as a given that his girlfriend would continue spending all her week nights getting trashed in the park from now on.

"Course. Why?"

"Thought we could go out for dinner and celebrate?"

"Celebrate?" she looked up.

"Em…I got the London job."

"Fuck…Tony! That's amazing!" She jumped up to come over and hug him. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Well I would of, only my girlfriend was momentarily replaced by Amy Winehouse, so I thought I'd wait til she was back." "When do you start?"

"Next week," he grinned. "So you better start getting your shit together and finally find some time to have your way with me this weekend because before you know it you're going to find yourself missing me." Emily flicked him in the side of the head with her fingers before catching sight of the time and rushing off to brush her teeth. Then gathering up her coat and bag and sighing inwardly at the prospect of a long day at a desk with a crushing hangover, she came over to say goodbye. She paused at the table again, reaching out to stroke her fingers down Tony's jaw. Gently grasping his chin, she pulled his head around to kiss him. She looked into his eyes for a few seconds, wondering why her heart felt like it was aching so badly. "I love you," she told him, before kissing him again.

"Love you too Red," he said as she reached the door. She smiled at him softly then stepped out, closing the door on the apartment behind her.


	10. Chapter 9

Naomi heard the front door close as Emily left for work. She was aware of the fact that she had to get up and go home…it really wasn't something she could reasonably avoid. _But what's so great about reason anyway? _With that philosophy in mind, she shifted away from what she assumed was probably Tony's side of the bed, (_eugh, gross…remember to shower later, jesus) _and snuggled down into the sheets Emily had recently vacated. She buried her face in the pillow, inhaling the scent of what must be Emily's shampoo. And Emily's perfume. And Emily's skin. _That and the smell of green, _a small smile cracked over her face.

_Okay, well, this has been great and all…how about __you mosey along now and GET UP! _Her body refused to obey her. _Come on, seriously now_, she told herself sharply, _what are your options here? Go home at once and face the music like a man, or just lie here in Emily's pillows forever? _Unfortunately her plan to argue herself into action backfired immediately. She'd weighed up both options carefully, listed the pros and cons and the second plan had won. It would be okay, she decided. She'd simply hunker down here until Emily took pity on her and brought her meals. Tony would probably be a bit irritated at the third person in their bed, but that was okay - he could just fuck off. Then Emily would join her there and - _ah, fuck, _a sudden explosion of masculine sneezes in the other room brought her reverie crashing down around her ears.

The walls of the apartment were extremely thin. After Emily had left her alone with her coffee and her thoughts, she'd heard the muffled sounds of cosy breakfast conversation, Emily's adorable soft laughter, and horribly enough, even the sound of kisses smacking in the next room. _That's right Naomi…happy heterosexual man/woman couple kisses. His lips and Emily's. Suck it up and move on. _She swung her legs out of bed and discovered she'd at some stage lost her skin tight trousers and slept in just her pants. Thankfully her jeggings were fairly obvious, thrown untidily over the arm of the chair next to the bed. _Right then. _No shoes though. They must be in the living room. She peered in the mirror, ran her hands through her hair, rubbed at her cheeks, rolled her eyes and she was ready to face the world.

"Morning!" the cheerful voice made her jump and then scowl. Tony was sitting on the couch, and putting on his shiny black annoying wanker shoes. He grinned at her inanely. "How's your head then?"

"Great," she gritted her teeth. "How's yours?" _Empty?_

"Fine thanks. Sleep okay?"

"Yeah, like a passed out alcoholic baby. Did you take my trousers off while I was unconscious?" she glowered at him.

"Fuck no! I made Emily do that. I thought you'd be more comfortable. Don't you remember?"

"Well no…I was unconscious. As previously mentioned." _Comfortable is not exactly the word I'd choose for my feelings about that, you big tit._

In the end they'd wound up leaving together. She could hardly find an excuse to stay mooching around their apartment all day when he was stood around around chatting at her. Didn't this guy have a job to get to? He seemed happy to wait while she used their bathroom, drank a glass of water and found her shoes, then escorted her pleasantly all the way out through the halls of the apartment complex. He swung around a briefcase, which probably contained nothing but a Bob the Builder lunch box and his favourite comic books. An awful thought struck her. _Did Emily make him sandwiches? _Fuck she hated him. As they reached the pavement, she fought the urge to take his arm and walk down the street with him, experiencing vicariously the simple pleasure of living life as a normal, boring, privileged, white, heterosexual, posh, male snotball like the lovely Mr. Stonem. Have whatever she wanted, and have it easy. Have Emily. She'd have an irritating bounce in her step then too. Never in her life had she wanted to be someone else so badly as that hungover morning in the sunshine, on her way home to argue with Alicia.

"Goodbye Tony," she said abruptly. _Drop dead Tony. _"Enjoy your _sandwiches_." He seemed completely unfazed by her cutting tone and smiled and waved as she turned on her heel and left.

"Nice meeting you," he called after her. _What a completely monstrous cunt._

**_._**

**_._**

_Christ, Alicia must have vented her rage on some poor cleaning crew instead. _It was 9:15 in the morning and looking around you'd have no idea there'd been a huge party in their apartment merely the night before. Everything was back to gleaming white, except for the colours thrown around by her artworks, still waiting for collection from their places around the walls. She stopped for a moment, in front of the final painting she'd completed for the series. Originally she hadn't been too sure if she'd really accomplished what she'd intended with this one, but standing in front of it now she felt tears spring into her eyes at her sudden craving for the woman who'd inspired it. She'd buy her mother a first class ticket to London for opening night, she decided, and put her up in the best hotel room money could buy. _Like that'll fix my guilt for never visiting_. _Maybe I'll go visit her right now. _Instead she crossed the vast white room and tentatively opened the door to their bedroom.

Alicia was sat in the window seat, dressed for work, but apparently motionless. She stayed gazing out the window and didn't even turn her head as her girlfriend entered the room. "Al," she said. "Al, I'm sorry. It was a beautiful idea. I just…I didn't expect it, and I felt a bit trapped was all." She crossed over and sat in the opposite end of the window seat, gently nudging Alicia's leg with her foot, trying to force her to look at her. When she finally did, Naomi was stricken to see the tears standing out in the stormy green eyes. She almost never saw her girlfriend cry.

"I make you feel trapped." It was a statement, not a question.

"No…babe, I just…" Naomi trailed off, unable to find a way finish the sentence.

"That girl Naomi…after she left…you chased her out the door like a bat out of hell. I saw your face… what the fuck is going on?"

"Jesus, _nothing _is going on Alicia!" she exploded instantly. "You know what? I can have my own fucking friends alright? I'm so _sick _of you trying to control me, like I can't make my own goddamn decisions or choose when I want to smoke a pissing little joint or have a say about who I do and don't want to spend my time with! You just pick and pick and _pick _at me…what the fuck do you want me to do? Who do you want me to be?" Naomi found herself shaking with anger…totally pure, self-righteous anger at Alicia and the injustice of the way she was being treated. Anger so big it could block out her total guilt for the fact that her girlfriend wasn't just being paranoid and Naomi was a lying sack of shit. Alicia's tears overflowed.

"I'm sorry…babe. I don't want you to be anyone but you. I just get so scared sometimes…that I'm going to lose you," her voice was pleading and Naomi's heart began to crack. She leaned in and pulled her girlfriend in tightly to her body. Alicia buried her face in her neck and all of a sudden she stiffened, pulling back from her, her eyes widening with disbelief. "You… …fuck! You smell like her! Naomi, you fucking smell like someone else's perfume, how dare you fucking lie-"

Naomi grabbed her by both her arms and shook her. "Al, for fuck's sake. You kicked me out of the apartment, I was completely fucking wasted and we passed out next to each other. In her bed. Nothing happened. I can't _believe _you don't trust me!"

Alicia stayed as still and rigid as a statue under her grip, until Naomi realised her fingers were digging sharply into her girlfriend's flesh, and she let go, feeling like a monster. The green eyes regarded her for a long time. "Promise me, Naomi," she said flatly. "Promise me there's nothing going on with her."

Naomi's stomach twisted inside her. All of her emotions were screaming at her at once. Suddenly she felt very clear on one thing: Alicia didn't own every single part of her. Her soul was her own. If she had some tiny, tingling feeling for someone else, that would _never _amount to anything, that had not a single chance of ever moving from a thought to an action, it wasn't worth losing her fucking relationship over. She straightened up and looked Alicia in the eye.

"Alicia, I promise you there's nothing going on. For one thing, Emily is straight. Second of all, she has a boyfriend. Third, we're just friends. And forth, it's _you _that I love."

Alicia stood up. She looked down at her girlfriend, her expression unreadable. "I believe you," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "But my _god _Naomi, I wish that you'd reversed the order of your fucking reasons for why we're still together just now." She walked out of the room, leaving Naomi to sit alone, punching her fist repeatedly into the seat cushions.

**.**

**.**

Thankfully things got better. It took a bit of time, but over the weeks that followed, Naomi did everything she could to make things up to her, to make it clear to Alicia that she was still very much right there with her. They attended the exhibition opening at the Tate Modern and Naomi was on her best behaviour for the whole night. She reminded herself, as well as Alicia, that she knew exactly who her girlfriend was, and who was just her friend. Her straight, platonic, friend. Because she refused to give up Emily now…so much was at stake here. She loved Alicia, but if their relationship was going to work then her girlfriend _had _to know that Naomi was her own fucking person…not a pushover, not some malleable younger lover who'd do whatever she was told. Naomi Campbell was never going to be owned. The whole fight had served a dual purpose, she thought to herself. Alicia had learned to back off on her expectations a little and Naomi had learned what her priorities were. She wasn't going to fuck things up and lose Alicia…she couldn't. And Emily…beautiful or not, was utterly straight, utterly in love with someone else and her crush would eventually die a natural death. They'd be friends.

So friends they became. No subtext, no secrets. They had coffee together, and when Emily slipped the teaspoon sensuously into her mouth, Naomi averted her eyes and stared out the window at the traffic instead. They went to the cinema, and ate their popcorn from separate boxes. Naomi met her for lunch during Emily's long boring work day and as the redhead left to return to her office, Naomi kept her eyes resolutely ahead and did not, for one single second, turn around to watch the sway of her hips or the movement of her hair as she walked. Then she went home and painted, for hours and hours and hours. She didn't invite Emily back to her studio again. The didn't get drunk together, and since the fight Naomi had been doing her best to lay off the weed. Things were just…nice thisway. Arseholeface the boyfriend was away for a few nights a week and Emily seemed keen to see her friends. _Friends_. It was great. They were friendly, friendly friends.

There was only one thing. Alicia seemed to have finally accepted Emily's new place in Naomi's life, but her curiosity remained fairly high about the girl. And now she was becoming increasingly insistent that they invite Emily and Tony over to have dinner with them, preferably that weekend. For the life of her, though Naomi couldn't say why, she desperately did not want for that to happen.


	11. Chapter 10

It was Thursday lunchtime and Emily had messaged her mid-morning, waking her up in the process - though she couldn't very well admit that to Emily. Not unless she wanted to be on the receiving end of an envious glare and a fairly painful flick to the side of her head from the redhead's fingers, at any rate. The text begged for Naomi to come and save her, at least briefly, from what was apparently an impending death induced by boredom. Naomi had originally been planning on starting work herself, once she'd properly woken up, but despite the sharp chill increasing in the air, it was a beautiful day. _What the hell_, she told herself. _Can't hurt to get a bit of fresh air and sunshine, kick the old brain into gear. _The fact that the fresh air came with a side dish of Emily Fitch was purely beside the point. She hadn't seen the girl in three days so it wasn't as if they were spending too much time together or anything.

The sun was so bright that instead of heading to the usual cafe as planned, she stopped by the deli on the corner and ordered two sandwiches and a couple of coffees, then took a seat on the park bench where she knew she'd be able to see Emily as she appeared on her way out of the office across the street. Soon enough she caught sight of the flash of red hair that never failed to induce in her a thrill of excitement (_duly suppressed_) and a small smile (_allowed to stay_). Emily seemed to have zeroed in on her as well, because she didn't need to call her name or wave her over before Emily switched directions and headed over to her with a radiant (_friendly_) smile.

"Thank fuck you're here," Emily greeted her, and immediately launched into a diatribe about a sexually harassing dweeb (who Naomi had plans to murder, or at least violently maim) and some kind of computer error that had destroyed her morning's work. _I must be good friends with this girl_, she thought, _cos technically I'm pretty sure this story should __be completely boring me, and yet it's totally not. _Just as she was opening her mouth to point out, _hello, I brought you sandwiches, _she felt a warm, damp sensation growing on her lower leg.

"What the _FUCK?" _she leapt to her feet as a small white dog scampered away, before being jerked back at the end of its pink leash.

"Oh, sorry…happens sometimes," came a bored voice from behind her. "Hey Emily. Aren't those _my _shoes you're wearing?" Naomi looked up aghast from the flouncing, fluffy minion of Satan, to see two identical frowns belonging to two redheads, as they eyed each other distrustfully.

"No. They were always mine. You borrowed them and never gave them back, and then I _found _them again, lying in the back of the hall closet last time I visited Mum." Naomi stared in disbelief, as both twins ignored the fuck out of the leg pissing situation and continued to glare at each other as if she wasn't even there. As if her drenched doggy scented jeans meant _nothing _to them.

"Whatever…" came the voice of the twin that definitely wasn't Emily. "They looked better on me anyway."

"I doubt that," Naomi interjected before she could help herself. Katie and Emily _definitely _weren't anywhere near identical, she could see that now. The skankier looking of the two turned and levelled her with a mildly annoyed, but ultimately unconcerned glare. Then she frowned.

"I remember you. You were stalking me."

"_What? _No! …I thought you were Emily," she laughed awkwardly at the ridiculousness of the accusation.

"So you're stalking my sister then?" Katie looked even more annoyed, ignoring Naomi as she flushed with anger and humiliation _(FRIENDLY stalking…for fuck's sake, does no one else appreciate the difference anymore?)_ and opened her mouth to defend herself.

"Emily is this girl bothering you?" the little bitch got in first. "You fucking need to stick up for yourself more. Seriously, it's pathetic. Just tell her to fuck off, would you?"

"Shut up Katie. This is my _friend, _Naomi. Who apparently you were rude to. So how about you apologise, or just get the hell out of my sunlight." _Woah. _Didn't seem like Emily needed much help at all with sticking up for herself.

"Not to mention, your dog _pissed _on my _leg,_" Naomi was determined that at least someone should acknowledge her suffering in all this.

"Go fuck yourself," Katie smiled pleasantly. "Catch you at dinner Em," she stalked off, hairy cockroach in tow. Naomi sunk back down on the park bench in defeat.

"Can't fucking believe you got us confused," Emily frowned at her, looking deeply disturbed. Then she leaned over, flicked her upside the head and smiled sweetly. "Thanks for sandwiches," she began to eat as if nothing had even happened. Naomi sighed. _So much for the sympathy. _She sat back and sipped at her coffee.

"So…um, I take it you guys don't get on?" she asked dryly. "Can't possibly see why." Emily rolled her eyes.

"No, we don't," she said simply. "Not since college in fact. Well, earlier than that, actually."

"Can I ask why?" she asked, and felt bad when Emily looked away and paused awkwardly.

"Long story," she eventually replied. "Something stupid happened…Katie got the wrong idea. Busted things up with her best friend as a result. She became my best friend instead and Katie never got over it. It's a whole… …thing with her. That and she met Tony first and in her fucked up logic that means he should have been her boyfriend, not mine."

"Huh. Well, Tony's clearly got good taste then," she surprised them both with the compliment. She'd made no secret of the fact that she wasn't exactly enamoured with Emily's boyfriend. _Of course, if he'd ended up with Katie instead, then maybe Emily would be single right now…BAD THOUGHT, Naomi, BAD THOUGHT. _Remembering what she'd promised Alicia, she sighed and turned to Emily.

"Hey listen," she started, trying to make it sound as unattractive as possible. "Alicia wants you guys to come for dinner on Saturday night. Don't worry though, cos I told her already that Tony isn't around much at the moment and you guys probably need some alone time, so it's really not a big deal if you can't make it-"

"Sounds lovely," smiled Emily.

"No really, it's cool, I know how things are, you really don't have to-"

"It'll be great," Emily said. "I'd love to clear the air with Alicia, you know? And Tony is always great at dinner parties…never any awkward silent moments with him around. It's perfect."

"Well. Fabulous then. It's a…double date."

"Yep."

"Great. Looking forward to it…Hey, Ems?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't mention her underwear this time, okay?"

**.**

**.**

Later, when Naomi looked back at that night, she found herself aghast at the realisation that sometimes, the tiniest of wrong decisions can completely rip the piss out of the delusion that we have any fucking control over the big things in our lives at all. If she hadn't gotten distracted in the studio that day…if she hadn't suddenly decided her outfit wasn't in fact complimented by the impressive amount of paint that had survived her shower…if Emily hadn't…if Tony hadn't…god knows how differently it might have all turned out.

But when she tried to pinpoint the part of the night when it all started to go wrong, she realised that what had doomed her was the simple fact that when the knock on the door came, Naomi was still busy in the bathroom trying to get the last of the paint out from under her fingernails. Which meant Alicia went down to let the guests in, so she was present and watching when Naomi walked out and saw for the first time how unbelievably fucking breathtaking Emily looked dressed up formally for dinner. She'd covered it well, she'd been sure of it, her face held in a careful polite smile of greeting, that never slipped for a moment. Except possibly for one split second, when the redhead reached up smiling to kiss her cheek in greeting, bringing Naomi's face a lot closer to Emily's soft naked shoulder than she'd ever expected to be when she'd agreed to this dinner party in the first place. It had been okay though, she'd thought, since Tony leaned in next to kiss her gallantly as well, despite the fact that he must have been aware that he was risking his own bollocks to do so. The closeness of his presence immediately replaced the dreamy scent of Emily's perfume in her nostrils with that of sharp masculine cologne. For once she was grateful for his presence and she was subsequently able to meet Alicia's eyes calmly as she made the introductions. So why then, did she see a sudden flash of betrayal in her girlfriend's eyes?

It had disappeared so quickly that at the time Naomi had believed she'd imagined it. Alicia followed on from the introductions with a steady stream of articulate, amusing conversation, so convincingly pleasant that Naomi was lulled into a false sense of security. She realised only when it was too late, how wrong she'd been.

The evening flowed on easily, to her surprise. After all the dread she'd worked up about the whole thing, it actually all felt quite natural. Alicia had organised catering, of course, not being the type to have time to waste on spending a whole dinner party running back and forth between cooking and being a hostess. Emily hadn't realised this of course, and complimented her on her cooking skills, which Naomi was pretty sure her girlfriend had taken as some kind of a sly dig at her lack of domesticity. Otherwise, dinner had gone by without a hitch. Everyone loosened up as the wine started flowing and the conversation ran smoothly, partly due to the combination of Tony's fantastic impression of a thoughtful intelligent human being and Alicia's natural vivacity and smooth interpersonal skills.

At first, Naomi and Emily had just gotten a word in whenever they could, but they both relaxed with how well their partners seemed to be getting along, and started to tease them both and each other, laughing at the increasingly silly jokes they managed to slip in to the conversation. Naomi mocked Emily about her continued insistence that green could be both a colour and a smell and Emily leaned over and flicked her fingers smartly against her right temple in response. She noticed Tony notice the gesture and pause, smiling oddly. Alicia noticed it as well.

"Emily, do you know that Naomi has never actually mentioned to me how you two happened to meet?" she interrupted, smiling indulgently at them both.

"Oh! Well it was because of how your washing machine broke that time and she had to take her clothes to the laundrette instead. I was there too, since we've got no frickin' room in our apartment to squeeze a machine in. Anyway, we wound up talking and ended up having coffee somehow," Emily smiled back, seemingly happy that Alicia was finally engaging her in something she actually wanted to talk about. Instead Alicia turned back to her girlfriend looking annoyed.

"But darling, you complained so much about never having time for things like washing that I arranged for Maria to pick up our laundry every Thursday. You know that! Why in the world would you insist on doing a silly chore like that yourself? It's completely unnecessary." _And if you did what you were told, you wouldn't have even met the girl in the first place, _came her unspoken words.

Alicia immediately realised she was publicly airing their dirty laundry - literally - and jumped in again before Naomi could start their age old argument again. "Naomi thinks I'm a snob, you see. Has a cute idea that if she doesn't get carried away by having money then she'll remain grounded with _the real people_, and such like," she smiled teasingly but Naomi stiffened anyway. Tony noticed the slight increase in tension and filled the breach with some random story no one particularly cared about, but everyone jumped in on anyway, happy to move on.

After dinner Alicia directed their guests over to the sofas in the allocated living area of the large white space and Tony immediately made himself comfortable. Emily nipped out to the bathroom and Naomi took advantage of the slightly private moment to draw Alicia close to her while she stood on the other side of the room, selecting the next bottle of wine. She turned her girlfriend by the shoulder to look at her eyes, following a growing feeling that something wasn't quite right. Alicia looked back at her, her eyes hooded and unreadable, and all of a sudden she grasped Naomi's chin strongly between her fingers and thumb and kissed her, hard, almost bruising her lips with the force of her angry mouth.

"Shit…sorry," Emily had opened the bathroom door and almost walked straight into them. She paused awkwardly, not quite sure where to look. She started to head over towards Tony but Alicia let go and stepped away, addressing Emily, causing her to stop.

"No…_we're _sorry," she said, her voice pleasant and yet somehow, not. "Totally didn't intend to make you uncomfortable, Emily."

"Oh, no, it's fine…" Emily said, looking anything but fine at the strange tone in Alicia's voice.

"Of course it's fine," laughed Tony from his position on the couch. He seemed highly amused for some reason. "Emily's been totally into the girl-on-girl action herself in the past, haven't you babe?" Everyone in the room froze, except for Tony who sipped at his wine looking mischievous as his girlfriend suddenly turned the same colour as her hair.

"Tony…" she said softly, her voice small.

"What? Don't be silly Red, you're amongst friends," he grinned. "You know she actually kissed my own bloody sister before she ever kissed me," he informed them. "Makes a great story to tell around the Christmas table with grandma."

"Um, what?" Naomi asked before she could stop herself. _Because I really just heard you wrong right now since I thought you said that Emily was into girls. _"I mean..er, _what?_" she asked again. She felt Alicia's eyes on her face and flinched. Emily turned around abruptly and walked away from them, over to the sofa where Tony was reclining, most likely to kill him, Naomi guessed. Alicia's expression when Naomi dared to look up, was bright and composed as if Tony was telling a delightful anecdote she couldn't wait to hear the end of. She took the bottle over to the sofa and joined them, leaving Naomi to trail dumbly after her. She seated herself just in time to see Tony squeeze Emily's knee.

"Sorry babe, it's just a funny story, that's all. Besides, you're cute when you blush like that," he grinned. "Come on…let me tell it." He started anyway.

"My sister Effy was a bit of a wild one in college - her and Emily were in the same form. They were both at a party one night while they were still in middle school, and Effy started kissing her. One thing lead to another, you know how it is when you're young, and next thing you know they end up having a big heavy make out session on the couch. Only they get caught by Em's twin Katie who completely lost her shit and freaked out thinking her sister was gay. She gave Effy a black eye and has hated her ever since. Lucky for me, Emily eventually ended up deciding she preferred kissing me to my sister, and - here we are!" he squeezed her hand happily.

Emily looked up, smiling faintly, but she couldn't quite seem to look Naomi in the eye. As a result she directed her words towards Alicia as if they were the only people in the room. "He loves that story," she said sounding strangely apologetic. "But it didn't mean anything. I was only fifteen - we were drunk and someone gave me MDMA, and I felt like fucking kissing someone," she paused for breath. "Anyway…_she _kissed _me_. It was no big deal. It was just the drugs." Emily's overly defensive babbling sounded well worn, like this was a story she'd had to tell time and time again. It also sounded frankly unconvincing. Naomi was having trouble focussing in fact, because of the voice in her brain yelling _not straight, not straight, not straight, _like an alarm, over and over again as Emily spoke. Despite what she suddenly knew was at stake, she was completely unable to drag her eyes off Emily's face as the redhead concluded, "It was a long time ago," and her eyes suddenly flicked up to meet Naomi's. Their eyes locked, just for a second, and they both swallowed in unison.

Alicia stood up abruptly. "Well. Who's for dessert then?" she asked stiffly.

"Oh, I'll come help you," volunteered Tony, finally seeming to notice the raging undercurrent of tension in the room, and just like a typical bloody man he was instantly keen to escape it. "You know, I went down on a guy once," he started, causing Naomi to get whiplash as she turned to stare at his retreating back. "Apparently I was crap at it, so I never tried to do it again." Even Alicia had no come back to that one.

**.**

**.**

Naomi didn't make eye contact with Emily for the rest of the thankfully, short lived evening. She barely speak a word to her directly unless it was completely unavoidable. They'd simply smiled and nodded at each other as they said goodnight, Naomi keeping her distance from her carefully. But it was all too late.

She followed Alicia from the front door all the way back up the stairs and into the white apartment before her girlfriend slowly turned around. They stood a few feet apart, just staring pleadingly at each other for a couple of long, horrible, silent minutes. Eventually when Alicia spoke, her voice was calm, though her eyes were not.

"It seems that numbers one and four on your list of reasons why we're still together are no longer valid," she said. "She's not straight, and I'm not the one you love."

Naomi started to cry.


	12. Chapter 11

Emily tried not to be angry at Tony. It was just…it wasn't anyone's _business _was all. That night with Effy was ancient history - they didn't even mention it between themselves, so why the hell did her boyfriend suddenly think it was appropriate dinner conversation? He was just being Tony…open and playful and honest. But it had killed the rest of the dinner party abruptly for reasons Emily wasn't quite sure she understood. Naomi had turned instantly cold…which was because…because of how she thought Emily had tried to hide the story from her, was that it? Though it wasn't like they'd quizzed each other on their sexual histories or anything; they weren't those kind of friends. She _had _hidden it though, she remembered awkwardly, she'd avoided it quite obviously only the last time they'd spoken together, after seeing Katie in the park. _That was it, right? The reason for the crushing silence? _Emily tried over and over to think it through. Alicia's behaviour hadn't changed very much afterward, but then Emily had found it obvious from the beginning that the woman didn't like her…all evening she'd proven her skill at passive aggression to be at a positively Olympic class level. So what the hell had happened that night?

Three days had gone by and she hadn't heard a thing from Naomi. She didn't seem to be able to bring herself to contact her either, because a new and slightly scary explanation for Naomi's discomfort over Tony's revelation had sprung to mind. _Did she think I…liked her? Like, liked her liked her?_

It was a fear she'd had around female acquaintances before. It was one of the reasons she sometimes had difficulty in making new friends, if she was honest. _I could smile and talk to that girl in the tea room, but what if she takes it the wrong way and freaks out? _It was a stupid paranoia, nothing but a hangover from all those taunts and jibes she'd weathered through college. But Naomi had been different; right from the beginning Emily had felt like her real self around her. And since Naomi _was _actually gay, the fear had somehow been neutralised. Add in the fact she also had a girlfriend and the old worry had never even crossed her mind. Still, by the time the third day rolled around with no word at all from Naomi, her fear was now in full flight. She cringed to imagine it…Naomi was so beautiful and amazing and so- well, she must be used to having people falling over her left, right and centre. And here she was thinking Emily was a nice, safe, reliable friend to have, until all of a sudden she starts looking like a raving closet case with a schoolgirl crush. It was humiliating. Because she wasn't. The thing with Effy…it was just the drugs. And it totally hadn't remotely been worth all all the crap that had followed.

Emily crushed her face into the pillow. She'd been tossing and turning for almost two hours now. The clock told her it was nearly midnight. She wished Tony was here and not in fucking London. What she wouldn't give to have his safe arms around her now, so all these thoughts would just leave her alone. She closed her eyes, willing sleep to take her away. The sound of her phone ringing jarred her fully awake. She picked it up in surprise and stared at the name on the caller I.D. _Naomi Campbell._

"Hello?" she managed. A rough male voice came back at her, talking loudly over the sound of music and shouting voices.

"Emily?" he asked.

"Uh, who's this?"

"My name's James. Look, I know you've broken up with her and everything, but I think you need to come and pick her up. She's a mess, y'know. Really hurting."

"Um, sorry…what?"

"Look. Naomi's just gone to the bar again. She doesn't know I'm calling you. You've really fucked her up okay? So I think you should come down here, right the fuck now, because I can't take her home with me and she shouldn't be left alone right now."

"Where is she?"

"We're at Keith's pub. Just get here."

"Okay, let me just…"

"Oh and Emily? I think you're a right nasty bitch by the way. I've never seen her like this." The call was cut and Emily stared at her phone. _What the fuck?_

**.**

**.**

It was technically after kicking out time when she arrived at the pub, and a steady stream of drunk middle aged men were gathering outside, eyeing her with interest as she got out of the taxi. Didn't quite seem the place she'd imagined Naomi and her art crowd to hang out in. She pushed her way through into the door, ignoring the _bugger off, we're closed _gesture from the lardy looking barman. She spotted Naomi slumped on a stool and leaning on the bar, looking terrible. Next to her stood a man with sandy brown hair and a- _holy shit, it's fucking Cook…_

He spotted her at the same time and started laughing as she approached. "I should've guessed when I heard your name. Always said you was a lezzer, didn't I? Just Nomi's type too."

Naomi's head jerked up and she nearly tumbled backwards off her stool. "Fuck's sake," was all she managed, before Cook slapped his hand on her back, pushing her forward again and keeping her upright.

"Come on then love," he hauled the blonde to her feet. "Your ride is here," he winked at Emily, and rocked his hips lewdly in her direction. She rolled her eyes.

"What have you done to her?" she asked angrily. Naomi was barely able to stand, Cook's firm arm the only reason she wasn't sliding directly to the floor.

"What have _I _done?" he retorted. "It's not me that fucked her over. Come on, help me get her in a taxi."

Emily wrapped her arm around Naomi from the other side and together they struggled outside, easily jumping the queue at the rank due to their obvious burden and Cook's threatening leer. The driver looked unimpressed, but they managed to wedge the blonde upright in the seat between them. "Address?" he asked.

"Well?" Cook demanded. Emily gave the driver her address.

"She's not actually my girlfriend, you know," she said to no one in particular.

"I know, you stupid cow. Broke up with her three days ago she said, just before she stopped making any sense at all. Doesn't mean you're off the hook though."

"I didn't- …oh fuck…" Emily trailed off as realisation dawned. "Her girlfriend broke up with her? Alicia, you mean?" An agonised groan came from Naomi which Emily interpreted as an indication of assent.

'Didn't hear anything about any Alicia. Your name came up a few times though. Don't know what you've done there Fitch but I'm not impressed with ya."

"So you helped her drink herself into a fucking coma?" she glared. "How the fuck do you even know her?"

"Met her at one of my mum's shitty art shows years ago. We go way back, me and Nomi. Don't we love? Called me out of the blue tonight though. Haven't seen her in years," he nudged her. "You alright in there?"

"Fuck off Cook…don't wanna see her," Naomi slurred.

"Bit late now sweetheart. Up you get." He shoved a fistful of change at the driver then between them they dragged Naomi through the doors and eventually got her up into the apartment. Cook picked her up bodily and carried her over the threshold. "Bit romantic for us, eh Naomi?" he grinned down at the blonde slumped in his arms. "Where's the bedroom?" He walked through and deposited her on the bed. He looked over at Emily and dusted his hands pointedly. "You start looking after her from now on, alright? She's fucking special she is. Top shelf quality. So stop fucking her up, or me and you…we're going to have words." He pointed his finger at her sternly and strode out of the room, closing the front door behind him with a sharp bang.

**.**

**.**

Emily started to feel exhausted, as she looked down at the spot where well under an hour ago she'd been tucked up and trying to sleep. Now her place in the bed was being taken up by the long, lithe and entirely comatose body of the same blonde woman who'd been disturbing her thoughts in the first place. Emily rubbed her eyes in disbelief at the weirdness of her life for a minute, then remembering all those nights with Sid, she bent down and removed Naomi's shoes for her. Since it wasn't Sid, she removed her socks as well. She eyed Naomi cautiously. _Right then. _She unbuckled the belt around her slim hips, pulling it out through the belt loops and being careful not to touch the soft skin of her slightly exposed abdomen. _Fucking jeggings… _she frowned, not quite sure what the best protocol for this was. Finally telling herself not to be so pathetic, she quickly reached out and undid Naomi's trousers, feeling a strange sense of deja vu as she did so. She had a moment of panic when the tugging of the the tight jeans under Naomi's hips started to pull the blonde's bright blue knickers down as well causing Emily's eyes to widen as she quickly jerked them back again before they reached any kind of dangerous territory. Pulling the trousers off over Naomi's feet, she averted her eyes and quickly wriggled the duvet down from beneath her and covered her all the way up to her neck, before sitting on the side of the bed, breathing heavily - with the exertion. _Right, well. I'm sleeping on the couch, _she decided firmly. She grabbed one of Tony's tshirts and quickly changed into it, throwing her clothes over the chair, nicking his pillow and heading out to make up her own bed for the night.

She paused in the kitchen and downed a glass of cold water, then filled a large glass for Naomi. Scrunching her nose at the forethought, she also grabbed a large empty bowl for her, and switching off all the glaring lights in the apartment she entered the bedroom one last time. Naomi appeared to be alive, since she'd turned herself onto her side, hugging Emily's pillow under her head, the frown crumpling her sleeping face visible in the soft glow of the lamp. Emily placed the glass on the bedside table, and the bowl on the floor beside her.

"I'm so sorry Naoms," she murmured sadly, carefully reaching out and replacing a strand of blonde hair back from where it had fallen over her face. She was just straightening up to leave when Naomi's hand let go of the pillow and grabbed hers tightly. Emily paused and looked down. The girl's eyes remained closed. Her frown increased, but her grip didn't loosen. Slowly Emily sat back on the bed beside her. "Hey," she said quietly, feeling unsure. Naomi only choked a little in response. "Hey…" she repeated, softly, reaching out with her other hand to stroke her hair again. Without letting go of her fingers, the blonde shuffled over until her head was resting in Emily's lap and she began to cry in earnest.

"Don't go," she snuffled, sounding broken.

Trying not to dislodge her, Emily moved her body around until she could rest comfortably back against the headboard. Feeling increasingly awkward about Naomi's cheek resting against her bare thigh, she slipped under the covers, pulling them up around her waist before letting the blonde's head nestle back into her lap, feeling the bed shake slightly as the sobbing overtook Naomi's body. Emily let her cry, simply running her fingers through her soft hair, over and over again.

**.**

**.**

Emily woke up from her doze more than an hour later to find the lamp still on and her back twinging uncomfortably at her semi-upright position. She gently pushed Naomi away from her, giving her room to slip down the bed to ease her spine. She rested there a second, her aching neck luxuriating in the softness of a pillow beneath her head. She felt Naomi shift beside her, and stiffened as the blonde wrapped her arm tightly around her waist and pressed her face warmly into the crook of her neck.

"Naomi," she said firmly, pushing her shoulder, trying to wake her up. Naomi only responded by tilting her head slightly up until Emily felt her lips brush against her neck. Before she could react, the blonde had planted several hot, open mouthed kisses along her throat, her tongue stroking heatedly against her skin. A small sound of shock escaped Emily's lips at the fiery sensation that tore through her body, her cheeks flaming as her insides contracted painfully all in one powerful instant, as if something inside her was trying to crawl away from her skin. She felt, rather than heard Naomi groan in response.

"Al…god I'm sorry…I love you…please Alicia-"

Emily wrenched herself from the blonde's grip and spent the rest of the night staring wide-eyed at the ceiling above the living room sofa.

**.**

**.**

_Bright blue slowly revealing pale skin, and my lips are- _Emily opened her eyes again. Her lips are being bitten, that's what they are. Unclamping her teeth and wincing at the pain, she blinked to dismiss her dream, then checked the time on her phone. 06:37. Time to get up.

Nothing but silence emanated from the bedroom, so Naomi was probably still be passed out. She was dreading the next part, where she'd have to sneak in and grab her work clothes out of the wardrobe after all the accumulated weirdness of the night before, but she figured the earlier she did it, the less chance there was that Naomi would already have woken up. So, steeling herself, she crept over and quietly opened the door. The room was empty. On top of the neatly made bed, there was a note, written in tiny letters on the back of a wrinkled receipt Naomi must have found in one of her own pockets. Emily pulled open the curtains to let in the grey early morning light and began to read.

_Ems,_

_I think I remember you and Cook and a taxi, so I figure you must have come to my rescue. I don't know how or why, but I know I needed it. So thank you. Guess that means you know about Alicia too. Sorry if I drunkenly rambled at you. I'm a wanker, ignore __anything I said. I've decided to go away for a bit. Spain, Cyprus, perhaps. By myself. Spend some time by myself, you know, do some thinking by myself. I'm not sure when I'll be back. You're a good friend Emily._

Emily sat down heavily on the bed. "I'll miss you," she said softly, and listened as the silence rang out in response.


	13. Chapter 12

Naomi lay on top of the unfamiliar bed and stared out the window. She'd gotten up and dressed this morning with the best of intentions, but immediately afterwards she'd realised that on this kind of holiday there was no point. No reason at all. Here she was…no Alicia, no Emily, no studio, _nothing _of hers was here. It was what she'd wanted, and the soul reason why she'd come here in the first place. So she curled herself back into the firm pillows and decided to stay put. Possibly forever. She watched the movement of the dark trees against the blue sky and the shadows cast by the small clouds racing above them. It had been more than a fortnight now, since she'd fled Emily's bed and headed home, packing her bag and getting the hell out of there…running away and never looking back. She couldn't face staying a second longer in her apartment. Their apartment. The one didn't think she could ever bring herself to go back to. _Too many fucking memories._

For the first week, despite the change of scenery, she'd not been able to stop those memories from overwhelming her. She still couldn't bring herself to face the facts; it all felt too surreal. There was such a huge gap between how she thought things were going to work out, and the reality of what had happened. Fucking _hell _she'd tried. That fight after the dinner party had gone on for most of the night. She'd cried like a baby, denying Alicia's words to her face, and to herself. "It _is _you, it _is!" _she'd repeated over and over but Alicia had just screamed back, calling her a liar and eventually turned and ran straight up into Naomi's studio for proof. Naomi had followed right on her heels, her fear, guilt and anguish making her uselessly inarticulate as Alicia flung out her arms, gesturing at the paintings and asking her to explain them.

"What are these about then Naomi? Go on, lie to me, I want to see this!" Naomi froze utterly still in the midst of the sea of dark red surrounding them both.

"They're…it's not…they're not what you think." she wept, hiccuping like a distraught child. "I can explain." But she didn't. _Couldn't._

"Well then. I guess I'll be the critic shall I?" Alicia bit back angrily when no words from Naomi were forthcoming. "Let's see. This one…I think it's about longing. Deep desire, wanting desperately what you can't have. This one here…look - it's so guilty…dishonest; I can see the betrayal _right here_. Oh and this one? It has jealousy all over it - someone else has what you want and it's killing you. How am I doing so far Naomi?"

"You're distorting it! You're only seeing what you want to see!" Naomi was shouting now, her heart compressing painfully in her chest.

"Oh, that's right. Art is in the eye of the beholder, wouldn't you say? It _is _abstracts we're looking at of course. How about we try another style shall we?" Alicia turned and pulled open a drawer under the table by the window, emptying the entire contents out onto the floor.

"No!" cried Naomi as Alicia pulled out her sketch book and flung it on the table, rifling roughly through the heavy white pages. Pencil sketches filled page after page. _Emily's eyes lighting up as she laughs, Emily's lips - sensuality in every line, Emily with her shirt unbuttoned and the gorgeous curve of her breast as she leans toward you. _Naomi cried helplessly as Alicia finally stopped and just stood before her, her face twisted with pain.

"Lie to me again Naomi," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Naomi begged her with her eyes, but there were no words that could fix this. Alicia turned to leave.

"I love you." Naomi tried. Alicia picked up a lamp from the table beside her. It jerked out of the socket as she launched it across the room, shattering against one of the walls. She slammed the door behind her leaving Naomi shaking and sinking down onto the floor, hugging her knees for support. She didn't get back up until long after the front door downstairs slammed and Alicia had gone. _Left._

At around the beginning of the second week of her self-imposed exile, she slowly began to emerge from her state of paralysing fear and regret and tried to reassess where she was now. Now that I'm alone. Despite where she tried to direct her mind - _work, career, friends, new apartment, taking back control, _there was only one thought that spun her around and around and around. _Emily. _How could she ever face her again?

What the fuck had happened that night she met up with Cook? Her memory was a total blank from around the time her old friend had arrived and found her well on her way to fucked up already, until the moment she'd woken up, just before dawn in Emily's bed again. Confusion and panic had swirled around her then, particularly when she crept out and saw Emily had chosen the couch over sleeping next to her this time. _What did I say to her? Please god, not that…anything but that. _Instead of sticking around to see the discomfort and sympathy in Emily's eyes as she opened her mouth to say _sorry, I just don't feel the same way Naomi_, she'd run. She couldn't face her, still couldn't face her. Maybe she'd never be able to face her. The only problem with that, was the fact that the idea of never seeing her again pretty much made her want to die.

"You can't hide in there forever you know," came the voice from the door, reading her thoughts.

"Yes. I can."

"No…you can't, I'm afraid. I've decided I'm taking you out for a bit. It's been long enough now Naomi. Time to face the world again. Come on, how about we go out and grab some lunch?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Well, you should be. Alright…we'll start off small. I'll let you off the hook for lunch, but you'll come down to the shops with me instead. Remind you that the rest of the world is still turning, okay? Come on then, up you get." The voice had began to move closer and Naomi grabbed her pillow as a defensive weapon.

"Leave me alone Mum."

**.**

**.**

_Great. _Not only had she been dragged unwillingly out from her cocoon of safety, but she'd been abandoned out there as well. Feeling approximately seven years old Naomi trailed up and down the aisles of the supermarket looking for her mother. Finally she caught sight of her in the cold section, blabbering away to some poor soul stood in front of her. "Oh how funny! That's exactly what my daughter said about toffutti when I tried to feed it to her."

Naomi rolled her eyes, tossing three packets of chocolate biscuits into the trolley and Gina turned, thus allowing Naomi to see that the object of her mother's harassment was none other than Emily Fitch. _Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. _Emily's eyes widened in shock, then her face split in a huge smile. Naomi dropped the other two packets on the floor as she suddenly found herself wrapped tightly in an Emily scented embrace. "Oh my god, you're back! How was Cyprus?"

"I, erm…"

"Cyprus honey? You didn't tell me about that!" cried her mother. "When are you planning on going there?"

"Right now, actually," Naomi informed them both, turning to leave but slipping slightly on the biscuits under her heel causing Emily to grab her arm to steady her. _Okay, kill me now._

"You didn't leave then?" Emily's eyes were shining. _Goddamnit, must she insist on being so fucking beautiful all the time?_

"I meant to. I just needed some time out. Turns out my mum's place is a bit closer," her face was flaming and her heart was beating right out of her chest like a cartoon character's. _She's happy to see me, _she realised slowly. _Jesus, she hugged me - she's never __hugged me! Alright…be cool._

"Oh my stars, you must be Emily! I've heard _so _much about you, I feel like I'd know you anywhere. I'm right aren't I? That lovely red hair you mentioned sweetheart-"

"Shut up Mum," she quickly interjected, her face moving from red to purple. "_Yes, _this is Emily. Emily this is my mum - she was just leaving, so-"

"Call me Gina," smiled her mum warmly. "Naomi's right, we're off home and we've just bought some nice healthy ingredients to make soup for lunch. You wouldn't be free to join us would you? Because Naomi's been such a lonely, grumpy little lump recently - I know she'd love it if you'd come and spend a bit of time with us."

"_Mum! _Jesus-"

"I'd love that," Emily looked straight into Naomi's eyes, smirking crookedly at her immense discomfort. Naomi melted. Between the horrific embarrassment and the thrilled relief she couldn't pick between scowling and rolling her eyes, so she ended up grinning like a total dick instead.

"Well, that's settled!" smiled her mother happily. "Lets see. Shall we get some ice cream and a dvd as well? Make it a real girls' afternoon?"

**.**

**.**

After an hour and a half of her mother trying to actually cause her own daughter to have the world's first coronary induced by mortification (_jesus christ - the car ride home in her mother's Morris Minor with the windows utterly obscured by political stickers….the __sticky-beaked 'Now dear, tell me about your boyfriend,' speech…the top seventeen __embarrassing stories from her childhood relived while they were put to work chopping and peeling in the kitchen…) _Naomi felt strangely revived. Her energy levels had returned dramatically, as had her appetite, as she wolfed down her lunch, glaring exasperatedly at Emily for eating sedately and daring to encourage _that woman _to continue the conversation, before she finally managed to get them both the fuck out of there. "Think we might skip on the whole dvd thing Mum, got lots of catching up to do," she excused them both from the table.

"Oh that's lovely darling. Why don't you show Emily your bedroom then?" she asked, looking as if she might offer to dig out her old box of sylvanian families while she was at it.

Pushing Emily ahead of her into the bedroom, she leaned back against the door behind her and exploded. "Oh my _fucking _god, that woman is a monster!"

Emily couldn't stop laughing. "She's a nice monster."

"Is she?"

"Did you really wet your pants the first time you saw a clown?"

"If you _ever_ mention that to anyone, I swear to god Emily, I will punish you."

Emily sunk back onto the edge of her bed, eyeing her with amusement, and something else...something pleased, that much was obvious. _Emily Fitch is on my bed…shut up brain. _Her brain though, had just had an idea. _I knew I kept that big spongy organ around for something. _Ignoring the smirking redhead she rummaged in the back of her wardrobe, pulling out a half empty bottle of vodka. Emily raised her eyebrows, but her smirk grew. "Why does this suddenly remind me of college?" she teased her, when Naomi flat out refused to let either of them out of the safety of the bedroom to find a mixer, instead screwing her face up as she took her first mouthful straight.

The bed seemed far too dangerous, so they ended up sitting on the mat on her bedroom floor, and reclining, and eventually lying with their feet pointed in opposite directions, talking a little but mostly just joking around and laughing. Then Emily's voice turned husky and serious, asking without warning, "Naomi…what happened with you and Alicia?"

_Great, okay there goes the fun and laughter. _Naomi lay back and stared at the ceiling, unsure of how to progress.

"Ems, we weren't happy. I guess that was obvious." She saw Emily nod out the corner of her eye. "We just come from different worlds, you know? She's always been so privileged…she's never not been given everything she wanted. No one has ever said no to her...except for me I guess. She used to tell me that was one of the reasons she loved me," she remembered. "But I just don't function that way, you know Ems. I don't want to be owned. Alicia thought she could possess every single part of me, even the parts I thought should be mine alone. It became this constant tension with us….her trying to take over more and more and I guess I was resisting more and more. It couldn't last." As she spoke the words she realised she was telling the truth. They'd been on the way out long before Emily had turned her life upside down. Emily spoke suddenly to the ceiling.

"Naoms…Cook said- well, he made it sound like…I mean, you broke up after the dinner party…" she hesitated. Naomi wasn't sure where the fuck that sentence had been planning on ending up, but judging by the silence and the fact that Emily stayed flat on her back and avoiding her eyes, she was pretty sure the vodka was responsible for asking the question. She panicked. Then decided the truth should out. Sort of. She propped herself up on her elbows.

"Alicia was jealous of you," she replied frankly. "She preferred me hanging out with her people…spent the last couple of years systematically discouraging and dismantling my old friendships. You were new and she felt like you were a threat."

"A threat?" _Jesus christ Emily, what are you digging for?_

"Yeah. You weren't under her control. _I _picked you. And I didn't want to give you up just because she made a fuss. I care about you Ems." She lay back, just as Emily sat up.

"But it didn't have anything to do with-"

"Jesus Emily, _no. _Fuck, I don't love you _that _much," she lied. Emily sunk back to the floor. "Speaking of," Naomi started, deciding to get her revenge and blame the vodka later. "What's all this girl kissing business we heard about?" Emily rolled over onto her front, and propped herself up to take a big drag of the vodka.

"You heard everything already," she spoke to the floor. "Effy snogged me and Katie freaked out. End of story."

"So you've never…"

"_No _I've never!" Emily's eyes nearly popped out of her head and she swigged again, glancing sideways at her. Naomi couldn't help the small snicker that escaped her at the look on the redhead's face. Emily dropped her head, blushing furiously and they both started laughing, letting the vodka cover the intense awkwardness. _She's still lying about it_, thought Naomi. _Not that it matters…she loves stupid fucking Tony, _that much was obvious_. Reasons two and three, _she thought grimly, _why Emily and I are not and cannot be together._

**.**

**.**

The air all cleared, she called Emily a taxi. She wanted her to stay, of course she did. But not only was Tony waiting at home for her, but now that disaster had been miraculously averted once, Naomi knew the universe didn't owe her any more chances. She'd have to be on her guard permanently from now on. No getting completely off her face around Emily ever again, no letting even a hint of her real feelings show. _I can't stand to lose __her. I'll be her friend…I can do this. _Emily smiled her beautiful smile and kissed her cheek goodbye before the taxi took her away. Naomi sank down on the step in the cold, feeling herself beginning to shiver and welcoming the chill into her body. She felt her skin turning to ice as every hair on her body turned on end. Seeing Emily again had only proven without any last shred of doubt, every single one of the accusations that had destroyed her relationship. _I'm in love with her. I'm so fucking in love with her. _She sat out in the cold and ached with it, until her mother came to the door and called her inside.

.


	14. Chapter 13

Emily was frowning down at the newspaper and eating her lunch in the crowded cafe when someone else planted their own cup of coffee right in the middle of page three. Her head jerked up and she smiled at the expressionless face of her best friend. "Effy! Where the fuck have you been?"

"Assignments. Where the fuck have you been? You never call me anymore."

"I've been busy," Emily frowned. _How exactly have I been busy? _It felt true at any rate, all her days seemed incredibly full all of a sudden. She looked forward to sleep every night, craving for it to switch off her frantically rushing thoughts. Her mind seemed constantly on overdrive, always fucking whirring away over something. It was exhausting.

"Busy with your newer cooler friends?" Effy asked sarcastically, but Emily knew she was hurt.

"No one is cooler than you Effy. It's not humanly possible." _Even if you are a massively nerdy swot these days, _she smiled at her friend.

"Right. Not even the famous Naomi Campbell?"

"Naomi? Not remotely cool," she smiled fondly. _Best not tell the clown story._

"Funny thing I read about her the other day," Effy's eyes bored into hers. "Seems she's a big muff muncher, apparently."

"So?" Emily felt herself begin to blush. _Stop blushing. Why am I blushing? Stop over- thinking everything! Fucking hell…_

"So she tried it on with you yet?"

"What? No! She broke up with her girlfriend a couple of weeks ago…she's totally broken hearted over it. We're just friends. Obviously," she added as an after thought.

"She's hot. Like, really…I've seen the pictures."

"Fancy her do you?"

"A little. Do you?"

"…Effy…I'm not…why are you doing this?"

"Because you're my best friend and you happen to be my brother's girlfriend," Effy wasn't letting up on the eye contact and Emily felt herself begin to squirm.

"So you obviously know I'm straight then, don't you?" she pointed out, starting to feel irritated.

"Completely," Effy agreed. "Well, except for that one time you made it with a particularly foxy brunette, who was way out of your league by the way."

"Yeah, well, you jumped me. And I was high."

"Emily." Effy looked genuinely pissed off for the first time Emily could remember in years. "I never fucking cared that you told everyone I kissed you. I didn't give a shit what anyone thought about me, and I know you did. So we're cool. But when you tell a lie so many times that you start to believe it yourself, _then _I start to worry about you. You can't lie to me about this remember? I was there. _You _came onto _me_, and you loved every fucking second of it, all of which _you _initiated. And you weren't on any fucking drugs."

"Right," she acknowledged softly, with a fiery blush. But it didn't feel right. She'd told it so many times over - to Katie, to Cook and everyone else at college, even to Tony. She'd thought about it happening that way so many times now that it _felt _like the truth. Instead the idea that her shy little fifteen year old self would have suddenly picked the most popular girl in school to hit on…that she'd acted on nothing but exactly what she truly _wanted _no matter what that thing was…that she'd ever had those kind of balls…Effy's story was the one that felt frankly unreal to her now. Even if it was the truth. "Sorry," she added, finally looking her friend in the eye. "Thanks for keeping schtum."

"No problem," Effy's voice was light. "We're not in college anymore though, Em. No one's going to shove you round in the corridors or write 'dyke' on your locker. So why the lie?"

"Just, habit…that's all." Emily begged Effy with her eyes just to leave it. _God this is uncomfortable. _Effy looked at her for a long minute before finally taking pity on her.

"How's Tony then?" she asked, letting her off the hook - for now. "I miss the fucker, but don't tell him or anything. How do you feel about the Michelle thing? You're okay with it right?"

"Um…yeah, of course," she replied. _What?_

"Of all the people to be staying in the same apartment block, hm? In all of bloody London? I can't believe she even wants to be friends with him again…he was such a complete fucker to her in college. My brother is such a wanker sometimes."

"_Fuck _yeah," agreed Emily emphatically.

**.**

**.**

So she'd been distracted somehow. Obviously, she must have been. Because otherwise Tony would have told her about bumping into his ex by now. They talked about everything. No secrets. _Well, almost. _She knew, absolutely without doubt that as soon as she went home and spent some proper time with her boyfriend, and let him know she cared about his life and what he was up to, that he'd tell her. No question at all. Okay, so Tony had been a tiny bit of a huge, giant, cheating man-whore in his college days, but he was different now. Adult. In their whole entire relationship, she'd never worried once about him straying. He loved her, for one thing, and he made sure she knew it. And for another, she let him have his freedom. She knew her boy was faithful, so she never quibbled a bit of harmless flirting, since the extra attention always made him so goofily happy. She trusted him, one hundred percent.

She walked in the door at the end of another day, knowing that this one at least, would have a good ending. Tony was back home in Bristol for the next four nights and she'd missed him, badly. Between Naomi still hiding out at her mother's house, Effy head down in her books and Tony being away all the time, she'd found herself having way too much alone time. No wonder her brain wouldn't shut up. Immediately as she opened the door to their apartment Tony was up off the couch, hugging her tightly. She breathed in the warmth of his body. "Missed you," she sighed.

"You too," he kissed her cheek. _My cheek? _She kissed him properly. "How's London treating you?" she asked, pulling back to examine him.

"Fine, great. Y'know…big, crowded, grubby. But the job is fucking incredible. Wait til you hear this-" Tony launched into a long story about an expose he'd been entered into in secret, something about M.P's expense accounts again. Emily tried to pay attention, but her fucking _brain _was racing again. _Tony. Tell me the bit about Michelle. How you bumped into her and it was awkward. How fake and awful and plastic she is now. Right? How you go out for drinks and wonder what you ever saw in her. Fucking tell me._

"Sounds amazing Tone," she told him as she grabbed two beers out of the fridge for them, feeling a sudden need to drink. "How's everything else going? Going out with your workmates much? Socialising?"

"You kidding? Mostly too fucking tired at the end of the day," he grinned at her. "Turning into a proper old man. Think I need to invest in a pipe and a pair of slippers to take back with me; it's that dire."

**.**

**.**

They ate dinner together. Tony cooked. "I'm surviving on takeaways most nights," he told her. "No fun in cooking just for yourself."

"I do it," she said quietly.

"Yeah well, you're better at being alone than I am. You enjoy it."

"What's so wrong about being alone once in a while? When you know you've got the rest of the week with someone you love?"

"Love you too Red," he stood up, ruffling her hair affectionately and completely missing the pointed tone in her voice. He started carrying the plates over to the sink. She was just about to open her mouth to ask him when the fuck he started ruffling her hair instead of trying to take off her knickers to express his feelings for her, when her phone's annoying ringtone started up. She picked it up to switch off the interruption so she could try and start an honest conversation with her boyfriend finally and find out what the fuck was going on. Then she saw who was calling and her thumb immediately pressed 'answer' instead without consulting her.

"Naoms!" she walked away from the table, happy to finally hear her friend's voice again.

"Hey Ems. This isn't a bad time is it?"

"No, not at all." _Why can't I stop lying to people? _"Does this mean you're out of exile then?"

"I had no choice in the matter," Emily could hear the smile in Naomi's voice. "My mother has now tried to set me up with her best friend's daughter, our postman's sister, and a complete stranger she met working in Whole Foods. I had no idea there were this many lesbians within two streets of my mother's house. Think she's scared I might cave and take Alicia back, so she's decided moving me on at once is the best way forward."

"Best way to get over someone is to get under someone else?" asked Emily, not sure what she hated most - the idea of that scary bitch Alicia getting her claws back into her friend, or Naomi abruptly disappearing from her life into that new fog of love Effy always ended up in whenever she met a new bloke. _I'm jealous, _she suddenly recognised the emotion that was making her frown so hard. _Of course I am. I'm jealous of the fact that she's __going to get into something new and exciting and all I get is a wake-up call to work harder to keep the boyfriend I've already got._

"She knows me well," Naomi laughed. "Unfortunately she also has terrible taste and they were all completely fugly."

"God, you're so shallow!" Emily tried to hide her relief.

"What? I'm all about the eye candy, me. Besides…horrible personalities…all of them. Horrible."

"You didn't even talk to them did you?"

Naomi coughed in response. "Anyway I'm home now. Want to do something with me?"

_Yes. I really, really do._


	15. Chapter 14

**Ha…yeah, I couldn't help sneaking the page three reference in there. Cos I'm immature that way. But in Emily's defence I would like to point out that she would NEVER buy a crappy newspaper like that. It was clearly just lying around in the cafe that day and she had no one to talk to just then and someone else had already nabbed the only copy of the Guardian so she started flicking through the paper nearest her, even if it was a bit shit. And it just happened to be open on page three when Effy walked in. She wasn't looking or anything. She was reading the ****_articles. _****Jeez. Stop looking at her like that.**

**(For those of you fortunate enough to have never been acquainted with some of the less high brow of British newspapers, page 3 has a nekkid lady on it. With like, nipples and everything. I know...seriously!)**

**.**

**Warning: may contain traces of heterosexuality. Some of my friends have tried to ****tell me that straight people have sex too. I refused to believe it at first, but apparently it's true.**

**.**

**Don't worry though...I won't make you look at any doodles.**

.

.

_Fuck this whole boring responsibility thing_. _Fuck just always doing what you're supposed to do. Fuck the stupid FUCKING numbers. _Emily went directly to her supervisor just before lunch the next day and complained of a crushing migraine, abdominal cramping, high fever and an urge to projectile vomit, just to be on the safe side. Then she practically sprinted out of the office. Lying to people was feeling increasingly easy for her; she'd spent all the previous evening smiling and talking to Tony as if Effy had never said a word. No one ever noticed her lies anyway, she thought. _I'm too practised at them by __now. _Naomi was waiting on the park bench for her and at the sight of the cheeky grin that lit up the blonde's face, all the mess clogging up her brain flew away, instantly forgotten.

"Badass," Naomi greeted her. "So, my little delinquent accountant, what evil plans do you have for me today then? A little shoplifting maybe? A bit of crack perhaps?"

_Fuck I've missed you, _Emily thought…_there it is - my first honest thought of the day_. She paused for a minute, testing the waters of it, grinning back at her friend and revelling in her stolen freedom. After days of relentless grey skies that made it perfectly clear that winter was looking around and deciding to stay, the sun was hosting its own farewell party and bursting through the clouds vehemently for one last final appearance. Light glinted off the buildings around the park, picking out the individual blades of grass and hovering around Naomi's bright hair, making her appear to glow. The big blue eyes regarded her warmly - it had been almost two weeks now since they'd last seen each other, making soup with Gina and drinking vodka out the bottle like teenagers. Emily had understood Naomi's urge to disappear for a while, but she'd missed her presence. _I missed her face._

"What are you staring at?" Naomi looked paranoid. "I haven't still got breakfast on my chin or something have I?" she rubbed her face in genuine concern.

"No," she laughed. "I'm just…I'm glad to see you. It's been ages," she reminded her.

"Well yeah. But you didn't invite me here just to stand there and stare at me did you?"

"Maybe I did," she heard herself say. _Shit, straight from my brain to my mouth. That's not how it usually works. _Naomi looked surprised and pleased, before she shook her head, rolling her eyes slightly.

"Come on Fitch…you promised me activities. I've had weeks of solitude and boredom. You better entertain me or I'll go find someone else to do it."

"Fine," she said, sitting down on the bench and crossing her legs. "I hear the postman's sister might be free if you want to give her a try?" Naomi stood up and haughtily stalked away. "Wrong way," Emily called after her, before standing up and walking confidently off towards their destination, knowing she'd be followed.

**.**

**.**

"What the fuck is this?" Naomi did not sound amused.

"Wait here," Emily dashed off to the toilet block a couple of hundred meters away to change out of her constrictive work clothes and into something softer and looser. She'd instructed Naomi on what to wear too, though judging by the blonde's skirt and leggings, her recommendations had gone entirely ignored. She returned to see Naomi staring up at the climbing wall hidden amongst the trees with something that looked very much like horror. "What's the problem?"

"Let me get this straight. You're supposed to climb this thing right?"

"Uh huh. This is the best climbing wall in Bristol. Usually it's packed but since everyone else is stuck at work, it's all ours."

"Emily, would now be a good time to inform you that I fucking hate heights?" "You're afraid of heights?"

"No. I said I _hate _them."

"Look, this is just a bouldering wall. You don't have to go that high," she smiled at the nervous looking blonde. "That's why you don't need ropes or anything. I promise you'll love it once you get the hang of it."

"No ropes? Jesus, Emily…it's all very well for you - you can still crunch numbers wearing a cast. Do you have any idea how expensive these hands are? Seriously. Every single one of my fingers is valuable."

"I bet you say that to all the girls," she smirked, enjoying the way Naomi's eyes widened. _This unfiltered business is kind of fun. _"Come on, we can start with a simple route, and move on from there," she began to climb, instantly losing her grip and stumbling backwards as Naomi recovered herself.

"No _that's _what I say to all the girls."

**.**

.

The playful taunting continued as the afternoon went on. After Naomi got bored of falling down the bouldering wall and Emily gave up laughing in exasperation, they ended up on a long meandering walk through Bristol. Nothing was planned or discussed, they just wandered, poking their heads into vintage shops, arguing about each other's musical taste in the record store and thumbing through second-hand books together before Naomi suddenly announced a craving for icecream. "But it's freezing!" Emily stared at her.

"So? It's sunny. Sun's not going to shine forever." Emily let herself be dragged off around the streets again until they rediscovered an old fashioned icecream parlour she remembered from her childhood. She recalled James crying as he dropped his kiddie cone right into his lap and her and Katie ending up in an icecream fight with streaks of peppermint and chocolate in their hair. The memory made her smile and then sigh, making Naomi turn towards her as they sat at the picnic table out the front.

"Used to come here with my family," she explained. "I miss them," she surprised herself. She licked at a lurid pink drip that was heading for her fingers as Naomi looked at her questioningly.

"I thought you still had that weekly family dinner you keep complaining about?"

"Yeah. I guess I just mean, I miss them how they used to be. How we used to be."

"How was that?"

"Happy. Innocent, I guess. Before me and Katie grew up and started fighting for real. Before it became all about gay jokes, Katie fucking every walking male, James turning into a little sleazy pervert, my dad going bankrupt and my mum pulling her hair out and turning into a total bitch to try and keep everything together. Just to summarise." She smiled wryly. Naomi smiled back.

"Sounds messy," she said softly. "Messy and complicated and annoying and totally like what I always thought having a family would be like." Something in her voice tugged at Emily slightly. She lay her hand on Naomi's arm for a moment. Her skin was warm under her fingers. The blonde's eyelashes swept up and the blue eyes gazed into hers. _My chest __is hurting. Why is my chest hurting?_

"Swap?" she jested lightly. She couldn't quite seem to remove her hand. "You can have my messy crazy family and I'll take your lovely Mum any day. Probably both best suited that way."

"Was there some kind of veiled insult in there somewhere?" Naomi moved her arm away, reaching up to fix her hair suddenly, a slight flush staining her cheeks and her icecream neglected._That's going to end up everywhere, _Emily smiled at the image.

"Not at all. Please…take my family. You and Katie would get on famously - BFFs for evs," she smirked.

"Okay, now you're taking the piss." Before Emily could stop her Naomi had dipped her finger into her melting icecream and dabbed it on the tip of her nose. She shrieked in shock, then retaliated, her strawberry smeared thumb reaching out for Naomi's cheek. The blonde was ready for her though and grabbed her wrist to stop her. Emily leapt to her feet trying to free herself, the fingers of her left hand dipping into the icy cold goo and moving lightening fast to smear Naomi's neck with it, causing the blonde to jerk violently away from her squealing, nearly pulling Emily down on top of her.

"Well hi there, ladies" came a familiar voice from above them. They sprung away from each other, laughter dying in their throats. _Busted, _came her next thought, though she couldn't quite say why.

"Shit. Hi!"

"Thought you'd have work today, Em," Effy smiled, but her eyes darted deliberately from her to Naomi and back again, making her message clear.

"Pulled a sickie," Emily explained. "Um, Naomi - this is my friend Effy. Effs, this is Naomi -"

"Your other friend," Effy supplied helpfully.

"Oh..._Effy!_" Naomi seemed excessively pleased to meet her for some reason. _Shit…that fucking story... _"Nice to finally meet you."

"Told you about me did she?" Effy raised her eyebrows.

"Course I did," Emily stepped in hastily. "You're my best friend, I talk about you all the time." A look passed between Naomi and Effy, both sets of eyes clearly saying, _Oh, I know ALL about you..._

"Well," continued Effy. "I have to be off. Enjoy the rest of your evening. Hope you don't find yourself having to lie in the morning, Emily."

"S-sorry?"

"To work. About your fast recovery. Bye then. We'll talk soon," she promised Emily, smiling pleasantly in a way that made the threat in her words implicit.

Naomi stared after her, visibly impressed. "Nice _work _Emily…" she smirked, then winced, as Emily punched her in the ribs, slightly harder than she'd intended.

**.**

**.**

They ambled up the side street to Naomi's house in the rapidly fading evening light. "Does it feel weird?" asked Emily. "Living here alone?"

"Fuck yeah," Naomi screwed up her face a little. "I mean…it's mine, I bought it myself…insisted on that actually. But obviously the decorating…that was Al. I practically live in the studio just now. But I've got some ideas of how to make the whole place mine again. Do you want to come in? I could use another set of eyes to look at colours."

Emily giggled. "Naomi. Um…you're an artist? With expensive hands, remember? Surely if there's one thing you don't need my help with it's picking out paint colours."

Naomi leaned back against her front door, flushing a little bit and smiling. "Yeah, you're totally right," she rolled her eyes at herself. "Well. I guess it's goodnight then, in that case," she said lightly.

"Yeah," Emily replied. She looked down at her shoes. Then at Naomi's shoes. Then her knees, her hips, her chin, her eyes. Then her lips. She watched Naomi softly bite her bottom lip under the weight of her stare and she found herself licking her own lips, swallowing nervously. Her knees felt weak. "Goodnight," she said softly and walked away from her, trying not to wobble.

Instead of going straight home, she sat in the park for a while. _My head_, she thought. _It's all coming undone. _What the fuck had just happened? All day she'd felt weird around Naomi. Like a little crackle of electricity was surrounding her skin. And just now, at her front door…_I wanted to kiss her. _Jesus, honesty hurt. The thought had been so surprisingly natural, that at the time she'd nearly leaned in and just done it. A goodnight kiss at the end of a wonderful date. _What the hell is wrong with me?_

It hadn't seemed wrong though. The teasing, the laughter, the blatantly flirtatious vibe that had suddenly flared between them _had _felt oddly date-like. Even the fact that despite her original promise to fill Naomi's first day back in the real world with constant entertainment, they'd gotten lost in each other's company and done very little at all in the end. Just spent their afternoon together, several hours of it in fact, and Emily realised she hadn't thought about anything or anyone else since the moment she'd seen Naomi smile at her across the park. _Best date I ever had, _she thought. _And it wasn't with my boyfriend._

Christ. _Tony_. She began to walk slowly towards home. _Alright. S_he thought things through logically. Tony was so distant right now…the Michelle thing had thrown her. And Naomi was_there _when Tony was not…she gave her the attention Emily was missing and they had fun together. _Right? _So Emily, never particularly great with rejection, was transferring some of her feelings over from her boyfriend and onto Naomi. Weird and not particularly cool, but understandable. And resolvable. _I have to fix things with Tony __before I really fuck everything up._

.

.

Tony was watching television, but he immediately switched it off as she walked in. The room was in semidarkness as she walked straight over to him on the couch. "Hi babe," he smiled, but she didn't reply. Instead she climbed up and straddled him, kissing his lips, invading his mouth with her tongue. He grunted slightly in surprise, but gripped onto her waist as she untucked his shirt and began to move her hips slightly as they kissed, feeling him start to respond. Suddenly he pushed her back slightly, looking her in the face. "How _is _Naomi then?" he asked her.

"Jesus…_what?_" she asked. "I don't want to talk about her right now." She reached below her to undo his trousers, but he held her wrist gently.

"I'm glad she's back," he said quietly. "I was beginning to think we'd never have sex again."

"What the hell are you talking about Tony?" she flared angrily, trying to extricate herself from his lap. He held her there.

"Nothing. Just an observation," he shrugged. "Every time you spend time with her you come home afterwards and jump me. I can't quite figure it out. Either there's something about her that fires you up and wakes up your libido - in which case I'm all for it, or instead you come home and fuck me to distract yourself from something. And that, Red, is making me wonder."

She jerked herself violently out of his grip and climbed off him. "Fuck Tony, you are so out of line." She wanted to storm off, run actually and get the fuck out of this conversation, but she remembered her promise to herself. _Fix it, Fitch. _She sat down beside him instead, glaring into her lap. "I'm sorry if I've made you feel neglected Tony. You're drawing the wrong conclusions though. I just _miss _you so much and it's made everything all confused." She reached out and took his hand.

He turned, leaning his head against the couch and looked at her, his eyes making her ache. "I'm not sure they are the wrong conclusions, Em. I've seen you with her. The little ways you seem to want to touch her…there's something there, isn't there? I've seen it in your eyes."

"Tony! No. It's not like that," her voice was becoming desperate. "Fucking hell, we've been together for six years! Through thick and thin. You know by now you're the only one for me…you _know _me. I don't have those feelings for anyone except you._"_

"Don't you Em? So you don't ever think about Naomi that way?" his voice grew louder. "You've never even imagined what it might be like to kiss her? Or fuck her? You don't lie awake at night thinking about her rosy lips, her hard nipples, her bum…her soft thighs?

Do you Emily?" She leapt up off the couch. "Shut up, Tony!"

"Can't handle it huh? Tits and fanny Emily! I think maybe, you might like them after all."

"What the fuck is with everyone trying to convince me I'm fucking _gay_? Jesus…Cook, Effy and now my own fucking boyfriend? What the hell is wrong with everyone?" she spat.

"Effy thinks you're gay?"

"No! She's full of shit."

"But she kissed _you _right, Em? That's what you told me?" Emily bit her lip. _Lie. Go on lie again. Lie to your boyfriend. You're so fucking good at it._

"No," she admitted softly. "I kissed her."

Tony stood up and kicked the shit out of the coffee table. She stood there, without flinching until he sank back down on the couch, looking up at her. "I've seen Michelle," he said. "I wanted to tell you…I just didn't want to freak you out while things with us are so off."

"What was it like?" she asked slowly, meeting his eyes.

"Weird," he said. "She's still Chelle, you know?"

Emily came over and sat back next to him. "I love you Tony." She felt very small.

"I know you do. I love you too." He took her hand again and leaned over to kiss her gently. "That's why I think we should have a break."

"What?" she panicked. "No. I don't want a break Tony. I want _you._" She stared at him in growing horror. "Do you want to fuck her? Is that what this is about?"

"It's not what this is about. I don't even know if I want to fuck her. Well, yeah of course I do…but I don't think I will. Emily…I'm losing you. I know I am. We need to sort this."

"Sort it by breaking up? What kind of fucked up logic is that?"

"Not breaking up, Em…but…I have a big assignment coming up. I'll need to be gone for two weeks…I'll leave in the morning now, I think. So I just…won't come back to visit. I won't call you either. You can spend two weeks just being honest. Being Emily. Not caring what other people think or expect. Not even me. You'll be free, Red. And at the end of it…then we'll talk."

"I don't want to be that free Tony. I mean, I don't even think I can," she began to choke with tears of loneliness and fear.

"Sure you can, Red. Just remember being fifteen."

**.**

**.**

He left in the morning. _It was okay_, she thought. _We're going to be okay. It's just something he has to do. _She got up and went to work as usual. She ignored a phone call from Effy and a text from Naomi. She went home and cooked her own dinner and for once managed to get the portions right for just one person, eating alone. She received another text from Naomi, which she read over and over again, but didn't reply to. The next morning was Saturday. She felt lost. She ended up dragging her clothes down to the laundromat, and sat there waiting for the machines to finish. She nearly caved then, nearly called Naomi, just to hear her voice. But the memory remained…Naomi's neat white teeth gently biting into her soft bottom lip. _It had all been so close. _The craving it started inside her. The want so deep and dark that it would swallow her whole. Emily did not want to fuck things up; her life was a good one. Seeing Naomi just now would be dangerous_. _So she sat there alone instead, and watched everything spin.


	16. Chapter 15

A little known fact about Naomi Campbell was that she was shit at painting. Thousands upon thousands of pounds worth of brilliantly messy canvases might make you think otherwise, but give the girl a paintbrush and tell her to paint in a straight line and she was absolutely fucked. Paint dribbled down onto the skirting boards, somehow bypassing the dust sheets she'd carefully draped around, splattering the previously pristine floors with big gobs of colour. _Jesus bollocking christ. _Though at least everything wasn't white anymore. She dropped the oversized paintbrush onto the floor and looked around at her careful preparations. She'd dragged ladders down from storage, she had huge rollers ready to go once she'd sorted the tricky bits and copious amounts of rags and buckets all ready for the mess she'd known was coming. It was a project. A process of renewal. Moving on. Marking out her own territory. _Distracting myself._

_Fuck it_. She walked away from it all and went over to the messy kitchen space, picking through all the crap on the benches to find a clean cup. She started to make herself a coffee and came to several minutes later when she realised she was still standing there, cup in hand, staring into space. _Fucking paint fumes…_she went and opened all the windows, letting the cold air into the room. Finally holding a large hot beverage in her hand, she wandered over to the window, pulling up one of the old battered armchairs she'd dragged down from the studio, and gazed outside. The trees were all naked and bare and the sky was a pale glassy grey. It made her think of snow, even though it was far too early for that to happen. She imagined getting snowed in right now…how long could she survive off her almost bare cupboards, several bottles of wine, an obscene amount of paint and nothing but her thoughts for company? It was the last idea that scared her most.

Things in her head had gone from bad to worse. From conflicted, all the way through optimistic stoicism, deteriorating down into confusion and then despair. A nagging worry had set up camp in the forefront of her brain. _What if I never get over her? What if this feeling never goes away? _Hiding out at her mother's place she'd convinced herself she could do it. Sure, it'd be hard, but people survived getting their hearts trampled on all the time. It was fucking life, wasn't it? And building a friendship with someone like Emily - it wasn't something to be sneezed at, not something she could throw away. She steeled herself carefully for the whole of the two weeks in between seeing her, coaching herself carefully to try again to view Emily in a different light. _Friends. Try harder._

Naomi was pretty fucking skilled when it came to erecting barriers around herself, and it had shocked her from the beginning how Emily had snuck straight through the walls without even trying. It helped of course, that Naomi had _wanted _her to, and that was the bit she had to change. She had to look at Emily and think _this close, and no closer. _She just had to want to hold her right there and everything would be fine.

But thinking about her at a distance was one thing. Seeing her again was something else all together. As soon as Emily had walked out of her office and back into Naomi's sight, she felt something within her start to crumble. A wall. One here, and one there until all her barriers lay in ruins all over again by the time Emily stood before her. _All that she achieved just by fucking looking at me and smiling. _Oh sure, she'd fought it, all fucking day she'd fought it, but her fucking mind kept playing tricks on her. First she started thinking that Emily was staring at her; every time she looked up she thought she saw Emily's eyes dart away. She knew she was just imagining things but it confused and electrified her, and put a whole different spin on their day. Because then she kept misinterpreting things Emily said so that they sounded like tiny come-ons, and it made it so easy just to flirt back, until they really were both flirting and Emily kept touching her and _jesus christ…_it was all just a big silly game to Emily, she knew that. And the worst part was that it only went to show how comfortable Emily now felt with their friendship. That was exactly what had changed. Naomi was officially _safe _- they could joke around, tease and flirt and it didn't mean anything. Not to Emily anyway.

It was stupid of her though, to enjoy it as much as she did. She knew that at once when they got to her front door step. Because try as she might to deny it, the tiny little tastes she'd been given of Emily's flirtatious, sensual side made her crave more and more of it. She'd invited her in - _fucking stupid _- and been knocked back - _obviously, you fuckwit - _and then the desire in her belly completely made her fall over the edge of sanity and actually hallucinate for a second, thinking that Emily wanted to kiss her. She rolled her eyes at the thought now, but at the time she'd been sure that Emily's eyes had lingered on her mouth, that she'd paused, considering, tasting her own perfect lips as she'd stared. _Stupid stupid stupid _she'd chastised herself for the next hour as she'd sat staring into the big white space upstairs afterwards, replaying the moment in her head.

And now, just to cap everything off, she was being ignored. Okay, so it had only been two days, but Emily had never ignored her messages before. So she was left battling her paranoia as well, wondering if she'd somehow crossed a line with Emily, so that as a result the redhead had finally fucking noticed what an absolute mess Naomi was over her. It was all so unfair, she couldn't help thinking. _Fuck it. FUCK IT. She's not going to get away with flirting with me and then avoiding me when she regrets it. We're friends. She owes me better than that._

She flicked open her phone and called Emily's number. Emily didn't answer. _Oh no you don't… _She dialled again. It rang out. Biting her lip she put the phone down. Then she picked it up again. _Be brave_, she told herself and dialled it a third time. This time Emily answered.

"Are you screening your calls or something?" Naomi demanded immediately.

"What? No. Sorry. I'm just at the laundromat." Naomi smiled as she imagined Emily, just as she'd looked when she first saw her. Only then, as the silence stretched slightly, did she realise she didn't have a fucking plan here. "Is Tony home this weekend?"

"No. He's away for a while." Emily's voice sounded weird, tight, somehow, but Naomi pushed on.

"Great. Come over for a bit? When you're done?"

"I shouldn't Naomi…I've got stuff to do."

"Stuff that's more important than me?" she asked, petulantly. "More important than helping out a friend who's in serious fucking trouble?"

"What's wrong?" Emily snapped to attention.

"I can't paint Ems. I'm shit at it. You should see the state of my house…I'm splashing the stuff everywhere. Alicia would have a stroke to see it just now." It worked; Emily started to laugh, so she pressed her advantage. "Please Em. I need you. I'll pay you in cold beer and hot pizza afterwards. I've never needed rescuing so badly in my life."

"Useless," Naomi could hear the smile in her voice. "Okay. Give me an hour."

"Ems?"

"Yeah?"

"You're going to want to bring some old clothes. This place is a bomb site."

**.**

**.**

The knocking at the front door took her by surprise. Emily wasn't early or anything, she was late in fact, but Naomi had found herself so ridiculously scared all of a sudden at the prospect of seeing her that she'd thrown all of her nervous energy into painting one corner of the room. Now she was fucking here already and the house was a total tip and she hadn't even fixed her hair. She sprinted to the bathroom and surveyed herself with a groan. Her hair was tangled together in a messy ponytail (with a streak of paint she noticed belatedly), she still had yesterday's eyeliner smeared all around her eyes and she was dressed in her glamour outfit of a grubby white vest and some paint splattered old grey jeans with holes wearing through all over them. She quickly added some more eyeliner, trying to make the whole look appear intentional. But otherwise there was nothing she could do now. She jerked back the front door just in time to see Emily looking like she was about to tiptoe away.

"Ems," she demanded. "What the fuck are you wearing?" Emily looked gorgeous, as always, which actually just irritated the fuck out of her at this particular moment in time. _Doesn't she get how hard I'm trying? _Emily looked offended.

"Uh, my…clothes?" she replied, slightly snottily. "Don't worry, I brought some stuff to paint in as well, I just didn't want to be seen in public looking like…well, like you look actually," she looked her up and down with a small smirk.

"Bitch." Naomi let her in anyway. "Like a beer?" she asked her as they reached the top of the stairs.

"It's barely two o'clock in the afternoon." Emily looked around at the state of the house, her eyes shooting straight for the horrifying mess that used to be the kitchen.

"Beer with lunch? That's acceptable, right? Lets see…I can offer you, um…a can of coconut milk or potentially a bag of brown rice, if you'll wait while I find where I left the stove top."

Emily raised her eyebrows. "I'll just go the beer thanks. I'm going to change. Might have to burn the clothes I'm actually wearing cos I'm pretty sure this place is a biohazard." She disappeared into the bathroom and Naomi surveyed the place with a frown. Fuck, she was probably right. She scuffed her feet at something slightly orange stuck to the floor and remembered that usually, before having guests around, most people probably cleaned.

"Oh my god!" she gasped as Emily came back out of the bathroom. "You can't paint in that!"

"What? Yeah I can. Tony never wears it or anything. Think he's forgotten he ever owned it."

"Emily. That's a Motorhead tshirt. And not one of those fake new ones you see the kids wearing. That one looks original - it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen!" _Especially too big for a small redhead with perfect collarbones and bare legs, _she eyed Emily's short shorts before looking away again.

"Don't be ridiculous. Besides how much paint are we talking here?" she surveyed the wall that Naomi had made an attempt at. "I like that green," she smiled. "Good choice."

"Yeah well, I like the way it smells," Naomi fought off a slight blush. Luckily Emily didn't notice, since she was too busy bloody criticising.

"Fucking hell, Naomi…I thought people paid thousands for your paintings! Lucky they haven't seen the job you've made of this."

And from there it was easy. Easy to talk to her, that was…easy to talk and - fuck it - _flirt _and be silly and act like everything was okay despite the desperate bleeding her heart was starting to do at an increasing rate. Not so easy was fighting the urge she had just to stop everything, shake Emily and scream at her. _Can't you see what you're doing to me? You need to stop this because I fucking can't._

**_._**

**_._**

Every now and then, they'd stop their playful banter and end up painting in silence. Naomi stole little glances at Emily, noticing her frown and the pallor of her cheeks. "Everything alright, Em?" she asked eventually. "You've gotten awfully quiet."

"Yeah," was all she said, before she turned slightly. "Everything is fine. Paint fumes I reckon."

"Well stop huffing the stuff then. You're such a fucking substance abuser."

"You can talk. What, are you drinking beer for breakfast now or something?"

"Tequila actually. It goes better with my cornflakes."

"Did you just roll your eyes at me?"

"Well yeah. Judgemental bitch. Think you're so fucking superior just because you do the neat little housewife thing so much better than me." She backed away quickly as Emily suddenly came at her brandishing her paintbrush.

"Neat little housewife? Fuck you Naomi Campbell! Why don't you just call me a Stepford wife and be done with it? What's your problem today anyway?" she was inches away, still holding the brush like a weapon. Naomi stood her ground.

"My problem? I don't _have _a problem. Except for when nice and tidy fucking accountants come over to my house when I'm in the middle of renovating and look at me like I'm scum!" She gasped in shock as Emily's brush darted out and blobbed green paint on her cheek, the redhead immediately giggling at the result of her work. "Fuck you!" she cried and lashed out, smearing Emily's arm with paint in revenge.

Emily dodged away, laughing harder. "Scum," she taunted her, quickly painting a large streak right across the front of Naomi's previously white vest.

"You fucking bitch!" she cried, holding the painted fabric away from her skin. "You're not going to goad me into defiling that tshirt you know," she caught Emily's arm as she tried to move away from her, and managed to streak her neck with paint instead while she struggled. The redhead jerked her arm away and painted her top again defiantly, so Naomi grabbed the hem of Emily's tshirt and whipped it up, leaving a long dash of paint across her bare abdomen.

Emily shrieked, dropping her brush in real shock this time, grabbing hold of Naomi's brush instead, their fingers struggling with each other. "Drop it!" the redhead ordered her, but Naomi made use of her height advantage, wrenching her arm up above Emily's head, determined to win. The stubborn fucking redhead didn't let go, and the movement jerked them closer, until Emily's face and her whole body were centimetres away from hers. Her laughter died in her throat and she nearly dropped the brush. Emily's ferocious expression faded suddenly too, and she stumbled against her slightly. The back of Naomi's knees hit the side of the couch and they fell together, the arm of the couch biting sharply into her shoulders.

Emily crashed down with her, landing on top. She still hadn't let go of the paintbrush, her right arm stretched out behind the blonde's head, still clinging. Naomi felt her breathing coming in frantic bursts. Emily was breathing hard too, her body was warm and firm and pressing into hers, her face so close.

"Emily," Naomi breathed. "If you don't let go of that brush right now, I'm going to fucking kiss you." _Shit. Jesus fuck. I did not just say that. Oh fuck. Fuck no. Rewind._

Emily's eyelashes slowly lifted, her brown eyes dark as they flickered over hers and then dropped, her expression veiled. Naomi's chest was so tight she couldn't fucking breathe anymore. She felt Emily's fingers move, slowly gripping the brush emphatically harder, pulling Naomi's wrist back painfully as she refused to let go. Her face was so close that Naomi could feel her breath against her skin. _She can't say I didn't warn her, _was her last conscious thought before she closed her eyes and went for it, leaning up to breach the last two centimetres between them, brushing their lips together softly before tugging Emily's bottom lip between hers. It was soft and full and warm and everything she'd spent the last few months imagining. _I've done it, _she thought. _I've fucked everything up. I've lost her now. _The thought drove her on, and she gently sucked on Emily's lip. _I'm going to have to enjoy this as much as I can, because in about three seconds time I'm never going to see her again._

Emily gasped at the shock of her bluff actually being called and Naomi took advantage of her parted lips to dart her tongue softly between them, tasting her mouth, the heat of it spreading throughout her entire body. _I'm going to take this feeling with me, _she thought. _Because I can never be this girl's friend. _Her heart contracted painfully as Emily slowly pulled back. _And here comes the goodbye, in three…two…one…_Emily's tongue slipped against hers, Emily's mouth opened as Emily moaned into her, and Emily's hand finally let go of the brush as she reached down to cup her face, deepening the kiss. The brush fell to the floor as Naomi pulled them both down the couch so that Emily was lying full length above her as her hands immediately grabbed for her, holding her there. _Oh god, _went her brain. _Oh god, oh god, oh god._

Her hands tangled into the red hair, stroked around the back of her slim neck, traced down over the worn tshirt feeling the shape of Emily's shoulder blades, before they slid down her back, curved around her waist and slipped under the cotton to feel her warm skin. Their tongues lashed together as the heat overwhelmed them, Emily's fingers digging into her head as they tried to meld themselves together. Emily's mouth tasted sharply of Corona and lime, and some kind of vanilla lip balm. _She's kissing me_, Naomi's brain finally caught up. _She's kissing me and she's not stopping._

As if reading her mind Emily pulled back, her eyes wide with shock. Naomi knew her own expression was matching as they stared at each other in total fright of what they were doing. She opened her mouth to ask just what that was, and Emily quickly leaned in, silencing her with her own mouth, pressing tiny, soft, hungry kisses along her bottom lip and with that Naomi was completely gone. She kissed her back, deeply, her fingers trailing up under the tshirt, until they found Emily's bra strap, undoing it and pushing it out the way so she could reach under and stroke and then cup Emily's perfect bare breast in her hand, her brain screaming nothing but white noise as Emily gasped, letting her, and she traced around her nipple with her thumb, feeling it harden as Emily moaned into her mouth.

She kissed down the redhead's throat, inhaling her scent, nipping and licking at the soft skin as Emily arched her neck back, letting her, encouraging her, wanting her. _Fuck_, her brain managed to think. _Oh fuck. _Emily was squirming against her, their hipbones colliding into each other. She pushed her thigh up between Emily's and felt her begin to move, grinding herself against her in her desperation for more. Naomi moved down beneath her, pulling up the tshirt and bra to kiss and suck at one nipple, while her fingers gently toyed with the other. The little noises of pleasure and desire escaping from Emily's lips spurred her on, while her warm full breasts pushed into her face. _Oh christ, oh god, Emily's tits_, her brain instantly turned into a fourteen year old boy's, unable to believe this was happening. Emily was writhing and moaning at her touch and Naomi couldn't hold herself back another second. Moving back to kiss her hungrily, she slid her hand into the waistband of Emily's shorts, stroking over the soft skin of her abdomen and down. Then, suddenly sure this was the moment that Emily would suddenly snap out of the haze she'd entered and stop everything, she paused, unsure, her fingers just at the top of the redhead's knickers. _Shit is this too fast? _Her brain completely exploded then as Emily gasped and responded by grabbing hold of her hand and shoving it straight down into her pants.

She almost choked on the moan that escaped her throat as her fingers collided with Emily's centre. _Emily. Oh god...Emily_...her brain repeated the redhead's name over and over, too far gone for the words to make it to her lips. _The heat of her_, her fingers slid clumsily for a second, _she's so wet - so wet for me, I've made her so wet, _before she found her way, stroking at the redhead's hardened nerve endings and gazing up with absolute awe as Emily trembled at her touch, her eyes screwed tightly shut, her arms shaking as she held her upper body slightly away from her. Naomi reached up and kissed her, pulled back to watch her face, and kissed her again. Emily's eyes opened, looking straight into hers and Naomi thrust her fingers inside her, making her cry out and rock hard against her hand. Her head dropped, her lips pressing against Naomi's earlobe, so that every gasp and tiny groan was murmured straight into her ear. There were no words, nothing except for little _mm's _and _oh's _and soft noises that made Naomi so fucking hot she couldn't stand it.

Using her spare hand she gently pulled Emily's face back up to meet hers, making her look at her, acknowledge it, what they were doing, who was making her feel this way. Emily's pupils were so huge that her eyes were nearly black. Her lips were parted, her cheeks and throat were flushed and she looked back at Naomi so full of agony and want that she could hardly take it. Then her eyes squeezed tightly closed as Naomi moved her hand so that she bumped against Emily's clit with her palm. They were both trembling so badly that for a second Naomi couldn't tell whose legs were beginning to shake so hard, until Emily slammed her hips against her, crying out in pained pleasure and release, collapsing against her body and kissing her hungrily between gasps.

They clung to each other for a moment, neither of them willing to look each other in the eye. Naomi squeezed her own eyes closed then, wrapping her arms tightly around Emily as fear began to overwhelm her again. _What did we just do?_


	17. Chapter 16

_I just nailed the girl of my dreams, _Naomi told herself. _I just had Emily look me desperately in the eyes right before she came. I should be feeling like the fucking king of the world right now. I should be feeling victorious. _She wasn't though and the reason for that was because about fifteen seconds after Emily collapsed against her, pulling her into kiss after kiss, she'd pulled away. She'd pulled herself right up off Naomi and out of her arms, to sit upright on the edge of the couch, turning her back, leaving Naomi's lips burning and the room ringing in silence. The simple finality of the action had left her almost physically in pieces. She lay where she was, her only movement being to lift her hand and drop it over her eyes. Eventually, after a long minute she heard Emily take a slow, shaky breath in. No words came.

She felt Emily get up off the sofa and she squeezed her eyes closed to delay what she could feel was coming. _I will not cry until she's gone, _she commanded herself angrily_. _She waited for the footsteps, but none came. She flinched slightly, as Emily's hand came down and lifted hers away from her face. _I can't look at you right now, don't you understand that? _Emily began to pull, until Naomi slowly realised she was asking her for something. She followed the tension on her hand and the redhead gently pulled her to her feet and away from the couch, across the dust sheets and floor boards…and then, as if she'd been invited in a hundred times before, she opened the door to Naomi's bedroom.

She stopped just before they got to the bed and turning to face her, her expression serious, she gripped onto the hem of Naomi's vest and pulled it off over the top of her head. The blonde didn't have time to catch her breath, before without breaking eye contact, Emily reached down and undid her jeans for her as well, pushing them down her legs until Naomi stepped out of them, standing before Emily in her underwear. _Fucking trembling again _had started up within her bones. Emily reached up to kiss her, stroking her hands down her throat to her chest, sliding her thumbs along the top of her bra. Naomi couldn't quite trust her own senses. Gone was the Emily she'd thought she'd glimpsed, who'd fed her growing desire with hints and tiny flashes of want and confusion, and in her place was someone absolutely sure. There was nothing tentative about the way Emily was kissing her and it made her head spin.

She pulled away from Emily's warm mouth just long enough to remove the redhead's tshirt and unhooked bra in one, stroking her fingers over the dash of paint across Emily's perfect belly, toying with the piercing there with her thumb. _Naked_, she thought, _I want you naked_. She tucked her fingers into the back of Emily's shorts and tugged, until Emily wriggled out of them. Her knickers were small and black and Naomi slid her hands down to feel the shape of the fantastic arse she'd ogled the first moment she'd seen the redhead. She didn't have time to put her plan into action though, because even as she reached up for the waistband of her knickers, Emily had spun them both around and pushed her down onto the bed. As she found herself thrust back into the pillows by the small, _nearly _naked redhead, looking down at her with a very intent expression, the absolute unlikeliness of the situation she found herself in struck her strongly. _I'm being topped by Emily Fitch, _she thought, and her lips twisted into a shocked smirk before she could stop them.

A flash of dark amusement glimmered in Emily's eyes as she looked down at her, making Naomi swallow audibly in slight trepidation, her smirk fading at the look of total dominance that showed there, as Emily surveyed the sight of the scantily clad blonde, squirming slightly beneath her with discomfort and desire. _She's getting off on how much __I need her_, she realised. _Little fucking…_she never got to finish the thought before Emily forced her head back with the intensity of her kiss. Naomi's hips arched right off the bed, before Emily even began to touch her anywhere else. Emily was so _hungry_, but still somehow she took her time, controlling it, tasting her mouth thoroughly, teasing her throat with her teeth and her tongue so exquisitely that Naomi barely noticed the redhead fumbling with her bra until it finally fell from her. Emily held her upper body away, gazing down at the nakedness she'd uncovered for several long seconds, breathing fast, before leaning in and biting down hard on the blonde's earlobe, muttering _"_Oh_, fuck…" _her husky voice making the word sound utterly obscene, before she slid her body down, skin gliding against skin, to trace her fingers down over her breasts, lightly teasing her nipples before running her tongue over the same path, licking and sucking. Naomi thought she was going to die as she raised her head, breathing raggedly, to absorb the view of Emily's perfect lips and wet tongue slipping around her nipple.

Emily's eyes opened and the raw desire they burned with made Naomi inhale sharply, before her lashes dropped again and her lips travelled determinedly downwards as her fingers hooked into her knickers and tugged them all the way down off her feet. She took her time kissing every last tingling inch of her lower abdomen, as if testing her, noting which places made Naomi writhe in agony. The redhead's fingers reached up to gently tease her nipple again, _obviously just to see if she can actually kill me with desire_, before she deliberately lowered her head and pressing down between her thighs, ran the length of her tongue along Naomi's wet folds, a tiny groan escaping her as she did so.

Explosions went off behind the blonde's eyelids as Emily's soft tongue slipped against her, moving slowly at first, tasting her, exploring, and Naomi's back arched at the cruelly gentle teasing she was barely coping with, wanting to scream.

Her hands reached down to tangle with the long red hair, winding it around her fist. _Emily_'s _hair in my hands. Emily's lips, Emily's tongue…fuck, fuck…oh god…Emily's fingers inside me._Images flew through her mind…Emily's work shirt unbuttoned as she leaned towards her on the bed that day, Emily's fatally, kissable bare shoulders at the dinner party, Emily gazing longingly at her lips on her front door step, Emily's eyes assuring her, _Oh, I'm going to make you come so hard, _right before she kissed her into the pillows. _Christ…oh…shit… FUCK…me…_forgetting to be gentle, forgetting this was Emily's first time, forgetting everything except the sensation of Emily's tongue swirling and her fingers curling inside her, she bucked her hips wildly, grinding against her face, crying out as she came completely and utterly undone.

Emily kissed her way back up her body, kissing her mouth with her taste still on her tongue. Naomi slowly recovered control of her limbs again, using them to pull Emily in close and tug her underwear off, making Emily squeak slightly in surprise. She held her tight against her body, entwining their legs. _Naked_. _Finally. _She pushed Emily so they were lying face to face on their sides and looked at her. _She's going to run. When is she going to run? _Emily looked back and to her shock, right _there _was the victorious expression she herself had expected to wear. Emily looked like she'd just conquered the fucking world instead of merely making one skinny blonde girl see stars. Naomi started to laugh, despite the warning look the redhead shot her. Emily's smugly thrilled expression quickly took over her features again, as she rolled onto her back and gazed up at the ceiling, her arms still encircling the naked blonde, her hands still gently stroking her skin. Until Naomi tried to speak that was.

"Ems-"

"Don't," the voice was soft, but the speed of her response and the flicker of anguish that ruined Emily's expression was enough to pull her up short. _Right. Oh fucking hell…_and right then was the first time she'd even remembered Tony's existence since the second Emily had stumbled into her body. She lay back then as well, staring up at the same ceiling. Emily's fingers didn't stop caressing her, but Naomi felt her leave, her thoughts completely somewhere else, with someone else. She couldn't bear it. _Not yet. I need you to stay here with me, just a little bit longer_.

She turned Emily's face towards her and kissed her again, urgently, demanding for her attention. Emily let herself be kissed, but Naomi could feel the total distraction in her lack of response. She pushed her hand down between Emily's legs again, just holding her there where she was still so slick and searing. Emily cried out, her eyes widening in shock as she pulled back from the kiss. _Yeah well, you wouldn't let me speak. _Slowly moving her fingers, she used her body to push Emily onto her back, making absolutely sure she had her full attention, before she made love to her one more time. _Can you feel that? _she asked the question with her eyes and lips and fingers. _Do you know who I am? Who we could be to each other? _She spoke it all - lust, desire, friendship and desperate love, covering Emily's body with her longing, inhaling her scent, tasting every part of her, trying to hear in Emily's muffled cries if she understood, as she rocked herself against Naomi's tongue and squeezed hard around her fingers.

When Naomi came back up to kiss her again, Emily was crying. _So now you know_. She stroked back her hair, kissed her cheeks and her eyelids, held her tightly trying to keep the world and everyone else at bay. Emily's kisses were gasping and incoherent, _I'm scared. I don't know. _All Naomi could do was kiss her back. _I'm here. I'm always fucking here. _Emily pressed her face into her shoulder and they clung together, eventually drifting into sleep in each other's arms.

**.**

**.**

When she woke up, it was dark. Emily pulling away from her and getting out of the bed was what had woken her. She watched in silence as Emily searched around in the dim light, finding her underwear and pulling it back on. She left the room and Naomi sat up, pulling the sheet from the bed to wrap around her body as she followed her out. A minute later Emily came out from the bathroom, fully dressed again. She stopped still for a second when she saw Naomi standing there in the dark. She opened her mouth and then closed it again, before just turning and walking towards the stairs. Naomi followed her again. A blast of cold night air hit her face as Emily stepped out the front door. The redhead turned and looked at her, hesitating. Then she leaned up and kissed her again, her fingers tangling in her hair, her body pressing against her…she kissed like someone drowning. She stepped away and Naomi moved after her, panicking…_shit…say something, someone say something_. She stood in the laneway, her nakedness only covered by a sheet, shivering as Emily walked away from her, speeding up to a jog as she reached the street. Before she could open her mouth even to call her name, Emily was gone.

**.**

**.**

Opening her eyes groggily the next morning, she groaned. She had slept maybe about an hour all night. She checked her phone again. Fucking nothing. She sat on the edge of the bed and flicked it open and closed it about a hundred times before tossing it aside. She was pretty damn sure there was no way Emily was going to answer if she called, and every single part of her rebelled at the idea of putting any of the words she wanted to say in a fucking text message.

She pulled some clothes on and made coffee. It remained untouched, growing cold as she paced around the house. She ran the sink to do dishes and broke two glasses in the process before giving up. She walked into the bathroom, deciding to shower. Standing in front of the mirror she gazed at her naked reflection, only then noticing the paint, still splodged across her right cheek and staining her fingers from their battle. She saw the little marks Emily had left on her body, on her throat, above her breast from the other battle they'd waged. She still had her scent on her skin.

Deciding against the shower she walked up into her studio, flicking on the lights to fend off the dark grey of the day outside. She reached out for her sketch book but put it down again. She looked at the paints she always mixed to try and capture Emily and she hated how far off the real thing it suddenly felt. Eventually she took herself back to bed and curled up right where Emily had been several extremely long hours ago. There were traces of paint through the sheets, the smell of Emily's perfume and of her body. Naomi squeezed her eyes closed and inhaled. Nothing would ever be the same again.

**.**

**.**

_Just a few more hours. Give it a few more hours, _she told herself over and over all day. Finally as the sun began to sink, she dialled Emily's number. It went straight to Emily's voicemail._She's switched off her fucking phone! _Now she began to get angry. Two hours later she tried again. Still off. She spent another thirty minutes rehearsing the message to leave, but when she finally made it all the way through to the tone, her voice just came out choked and cracked.

"Emily. Please…" was as far as she'd got before she'd hung up. _Great. That'll totally get her. _Eventually she fell asleep with her phone still in her hand.

The next day when she woke up the anger was instantaneous. _What the fuck does she think she's doing? She can't avoid this. _She pulled on the same clothes as the day before and marched determinedly down the street, pressing the buzzer to Emily's apartment. No fucking answer. She leaned on it for one long minute. _Don't you fucking ignore me, Emily Fitch. _Eventually she gave up and went home. She caved in and sent a text message. _Ems. I know that you're scared. But please just let me know you're alright. _She felt satisfied then. She'll answer, I know she will.

Four hours later she threw her phone at the wall. _What the fucking hell is she playing at? _She didn't sleep at all that night.

The next morning she made another phone call.

"I need your help. Can you come please?"

She met Cook outside Emily's building. "Blondie you look like shit. What's that crap on your face?"

"Shut up. I owe you, okay? Just don't ask me any questions."

"What's this about then?"

"That's a fucking question, tosser!" She pressed the buzzer. Nothing…nothing…nothing. "I need to get in Cook." He looked at her for a beat, and pushed the buzzer to another apartment.

"Hello?" came a woman's voice sounding harassed.

"Avon calling," he said cheerfully.

"Fuck off."

"Free samples love? Obligation free." The door buzzed. "Just got to know how to talk to people," he bragged grinning at her. He jogged up the stairs right on her heels. She banged at Emily's door.

"Emily? Come on, Em, I fucking want to talk to you!" Silence. Cook looked at her knowingly.

"Still broken up with you then?"

"She's not my girlfriend you wanker. She's…god, she's Tony Stonem's girlfriend actually. You probly know his sister Effy since you all went to college together." Cook's face darkened.

"Fucking hell…" he drifted off. He looked at her while she banged on the door again, almost bruising her fist in her frustration.

"Right. How badly do you need to get in there?" he searched her eyes.

"Bad enough that I brought you along," she snapped at him. He grinned again and reaching into his pocket he brought out a small selection of wires.

"Prison was good for something then," he smirked, as he leaned in to fiddle with the lock. "They're big on education inside." Within a couple of minutes the door swung open. He held it aside for her. "Jilted lovers first," he announced.

"Emily?" Naomi called, marching into the apartment. She quickly checked all the rooms. Empty. Feeling like a complete gobshite, she poked her head in the wardrobe and looked under the bed. Cook was standing in the kitchen, holding a small pile of mail that she'd stepped over as they'd walked through the door. He lifted up a half empty carton of milk that was standing on the bench and sniffed it before screwing his nose up.

"Nomi. Don't think she's been here in a couple of days. Not unless she's an even worse housekeeper than you." She sank down on the couch, her panic suddenly tripling. He eyed her. "Fucking hell blondie. What did you do to the poor girl?"

**.**

**.**

She sent him home and sat in the park, unsure of where to go next. She got up and walked illogically to the climbing wall, wandered the perimeter, zigzagged across the green. _Where the fuck would Emily go? _It was then that she realised how little she knew about the redhead. _How can I be so in love with someone and know so little about their life? _It didn't make any sense, but it didn't make it any less of a fact. _I know where she works_, she suddenly realised, and her heart began to race. Maybe that was all. Maybe Emily was avoiding her, was too freaked out and distracted to care about her mail or her milk and she was just at fucking work. _Of course, how could I be so stupid?_

She crossed the road, entered the building she'd seen Emily leave so many times before. She walked in through the big glass revolving doors and went straight up to the imposing reception desk.

"Hello, I was wanting to see Emily Fitch?"

"Certainly. Which company does she work for?" Naomi began to panic.

"Um…she's an accountant?"

"Right. Who for darling?" the camp young man behind the counter asked, smiling pleasantly.

"I…don't know."

"I'm afraid I can't help you then. There are seven different firms in this building. All of them have accountants."

"You don't know her then?" she tried miserably. "She's a redhead, completely gorgeous, kind of short…"

The man smiled at her, genuinely this time as he took in the state of her hair, her clothes, the dark circles under her eyes and the traces of paint and desperation on her face. "You know, I think I know who you mean. She's rather lovely isn't she?"

"You have no idea," she said sadly. "She said she works for assholes, if that helps?"

"Could do," he paused thoughtfully. "Hang on a second." He dialled a number and asked about Emily. "Nope, wrong assholes." He tried another one, Naomi listened on tenterhooks as he got transferred to Emily's desk. He asked for her, listened to the response and frowned. Hanging up he said gently, "She's not in today. Didn't come in yesterday either. They couldn't tell me when she'd be back."

"Thank you," she said softly, biting back tears. "If you…if you see her, can you tell her…"

"To call the beautiful distraught blonde back?" he smiled at her.

"Yes please."

She couldn't go home, so she returned to the park. _I know who her boyfriend is. But he's away. And he probably wants to kill me. I know who her best friend is…but fuck knows where to find her. I know she has a twin, but I don't think we move in the same social circles. _A minute later she yelped out loud as she saw something white streak across the park.

"Paris! Paris, come here! Good girl!" She was so relieved to see the pissy little muppet, she nearly cried.

"Um, he's a boy?" came the voice behind her, filled with disdain. "Good morning Naomi. You're looking sexy - ever _heard _of a shower?"

"Katie," she fought the urge to fucking hug the woman. "Katie…I need your help."

.


	18. Chapter 17

"Sorry," Katie snapped the lead back onto Paris' collar. "I'm busy." Naomi grabbed her arm as she turned to go.

"Please, Katie. It's important. I've…messed everything up and-"

"Uh, let go of me?" Katie looked down at Naomi's hand if she'd just vomited on her arm. "Look, I said I was busy, so whatever it is? It's not my problem."

"But it's about Emily." Katie looked blankly at her. "She's your sister," Naomi insisted. "That makes it your problem."

"What's wrong with Emily?" the redhead's voice was sharp.

"She's disappeared somehow. She won't even answer her phone...I don't...I don't know what to do."

"Just leave her alone then, you fucking stalker! If she wanted you to find her, you'd find her." Katie shot her another cold look and turned on her heel.

"Katie! Something's not right. She's hasn't turned up for work. She hasn't been home in days either. I-"

"And how the fuck would you know that?" Katie's eyes narrowed.

"I just do, okay? Look…"

"No, you look: Emily is not your problem. She's a big girl and she's _my _fucking sister so I'll deal with this. Piss off, will you?" Katie walked away and Naomi watched her helplessly.

"I fucked her!" she yelled after her. Katie froze. She turned around, her movements ultra slow, but the next thing Naomi knew there was a very angry redhead right in her face with a small excited dog in tow.

"_What are you talking about_?"

"We slept together, okay? And now she's run off…bloody Tony's away, she's probably completely freaking out, and you _have _to help me find her before something happens to her, or she does something, or…" she couldn't finish the sentence, struggling hard to hold back her tears. She was rapidly losing any last hope that this self-absorbed bitch in front of her who looked so horribly like the girl she loved, would even lift one fucking finger to help her now. She remembered Tony telling them how Katie gave the last girl to kiss Emily a black eye, but even as the thought crossed Naomi's mind that maybe she should be backing away slowly, the twin sank down onto the park bench.

"Shit," she said. She looked up at Naomi. "_Shit_!" she repeated, her eyes wide. "You _fucked _my sister and then what, you just let her go? Do you have any idea of fucking _wigged _she must be right now? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Um…" Naomi wasn't sure how to respond to that. "I know. But she wouldn't stay…I couldn't-"

"But you at least tried to talk to her about it afterwards, right? _Right Naomi_?"

"Well she wouldn't let me, so-"

"Jesus, how fucking whipped _are _you? Fucking hell…you _loser_. She could be anywhere!"

"Well, fuck Katie, you're her sister…where would she go? There must be somewhere you can think of," she sat warily down next to the redhead. There was a long pause.

"I don't know," Katie admitted. "She doesn't talk to me, does she?" She twisted the dog lead around her fingers, staring hard at the creature jerking frantically at the end of it as if he had the answers.

"Who _does _she talk to?" Naomi wondered aloud. Katie paused again, looking like maybe she might hit someone after all.

"Oh fuck it. Emily insisted I keep this number…like it's her real next of kin or something…" she pulled her phone out of her handbag and glaring at it, scrolled through the names before stabbing her perfectly manicured fingernail onto one of them.

"Effy," she said tightly. "It's Katie… …No, she's okay - I think, I'm not sure. No I haven't… …Yeah, well that's who I'm fucking sat next to - she doesn't know either. What do we do?"

.

.

Naomi watched the scenery whip by, from her position relegated to the back seat of the beat up old car, while Effy drove and Katie bickered with her, like an old divorced couple.

"I'm telling you," she hissed. "It'll be the lake. She used to sneak off there all the time when we were kids. She thought it was her fucking secret hideout but everyone knew. Ever since she ran away from home when she was six and thought she could _live _there and the police had to bring her home."

"She's not a kid anymore," Effy stared straight ahead. "She'll be in London looking for Tony. He's her safe place now; that's where she'll want to be."

"Yeah but you fucking called him already and he hasn't heard from her either! This is _fucked _Effy, we might as well check it out on the way out of town." Effy veered down a side road without warning and Naomi began to feel nauseated.

Ten minutes later, they piled out of the car, and walked down through the trees, calling Emily's name. Naomi paused at the lake edge, looking at the view. _This is ridiculous. She's not fucking camping in the woods. Why did I even bring these two along? _Still, she couldn't help feeling strangely comforted by the fact that she wasn't alone looking for Emily anymore, even if they did start out with a useless nature excursion.

"It's lovely," she remarked to no one, looking up at the sky. "It's a lovely place." She tried to imagine Emily here…six years old, unpacking her rucksack filled with favourite toys and some stolen biscuits, holding her head high, convinced she could take care of herself out here better than those wankers at home could. She smiled at the image. She could see why Emily liked it here…it was peaceful.

"Come ON lezzer!" yelled Katie, halfway back up the slope. "She's obviously not here."

"Like I said," Effy unlocked the car. Naomi sighed and went back up to join them. _Where __the fuck are you Emily? And why doesn't anyone know?_

.

.

As soon as they were on the road again, the lecture recommenced. "So the fact that she has a fucking boyfriend meant nothing to you did it?"

"Leave it Katie," she said quietly.

"Why should I? They've been together for four years!"

"Six," Effy informed them, glancing coolly at Naomi in the rearview mirror.

"It just happened, okay?" Naomi glared back. "For fuck's sake, I didn't plan this or anything. I _know _she has a boyfriend. Believe me, I'm one hundred percent aware of the fact."

"What's that supposed to mean?" cried Katie. "They're in love! You don't fuck with that."

"And what about me? I love her too! I don't count at all in this?" There were about three million reasons that Naomi did not want to be having this conversation right now.

"No, you don't! Emily loves _Tony_. And she's not _gay _so you've obviously confused the hell out of her you big muff muncher."

"Didn't seem all that confused when she was fucking my brains out-" Naomi smiled at her pleasantly.

"I don't need to hear this," Katie stared out the window refusing to be goaded.

"I mean, mostly just in the way she was gasping and moaning, you know? And then there was the part where she was totally getting off on my-"

"GET OUT OF MY FUCKING CAR YOU _LYING BITCH_!" the twin's control snapped.

"This is my car, Katie," Effy reminded her. "And she's probably not lying…" she smirked at them both. "As I recall, Emily is _quite _the firecracker when she gets going."

"Shut up." Katie and Naomi snapped in unison. The next few miles were mercifully silent.

"Why did Emily run away? When she was little I mean?" Naomi couldn't help her curiosity, stuck in a car with two of the people who knew her mystery girl best. Katie laughed suddenly at the memory.

"Oh, it was really funny! We were playing a game, like 'Mothers and Fathers' or something with the girls from next door and we didn't have any boys to play with, so Emily insisted that her friend Gemma should be the man, but then our mum caught them kiss-" her voice suddenly cracked as she realised where the story was going. "Forget it, it's a boring story."

.

.

As they drove through the outskirts of London, Naomi began to panic. Emily's phone was still switched off and while the conversation with Katie and Effy had been strangely exciting for her, catching tiny snippets of Emily's life and background, it hadn't been remotely illuminating as to where she might be now. Not to mention Effy was driving them closer and closer to Tony's place. And if Emily was the person Naomi most wanted to see in the entire world just now, then Tony was the last. _Christ, here we go..._

"Maybe I should wait here in the car?" she suggested awkwardly. Effy gave her a look that said _well aren't you a pussy_? so Naomi sighed and followed them out.

When they'd eventually parked and walked the several blocks back to his building, Effy pressed the buzzer. A woman's voice answered. "Hello?"

Naomi waited for Effy to apologise for getting the wrong flat.

"Hi Michelle."

"Effy?" the door buzzed. Naomi and Katie exchanged a confused look.

When they got upstairs the door was opened by a rather pretty brunette, looking flustered. "It's good to see you again, Effy," she hugged her, despite Effy's complete lack of reciprocation.

"Where's Tony?"

"He's in the shower, but-" the woman froze looking at Katie, who was equally frozen staring at her.

"Oh my god," Michelle stepped backwards, as Katie stepped forwards. "It's not what it looks like."

"Is that right?" Katie looked dangerous. "Funny, cos to me, it looks like you're the slag who's fucking my sister's boyfriend."

"_Who? _Oh…shit, you're not…oh thank god -" her relief as she remembered the existence of Emily's _twin _was short-lived as Katie barged past her and into the flat. Without pausing she flung open the door to the bathroom where the sound of running water could be heard. Tony's voice rang out.

"Hi Katie. Nice to see you and everything but I'm kind of naked-" right before he started yelling in anguish, followed by a loud crash and Katie's voice raised in abuse. Effy looked bored, letting him take it for a second, and then slouched over to the door to intervene. Michelle looked at Naomi and offered her hand.

"Hi, I'm Michelle," she ignored the scene behind her.

"Naomi." _Your accomplice. _Michelle nodded slowly, looking thoughtful.

"Right, Tony mentioned you. Several times in fact. God…if you're here, does that mean…?"

"Yep."

"Oh thank god!" Michelle hugged her.

Eventually they all ended up sitting around the living room, staring at each other in silence. Katie's clothes were damp. Tony was now - thankfully - fully dressed, though he was holding an ice pack to his bollocks and glaring intently at Naomi who was glaring back. Finally she decided to be the one to get the party started.

"So what's this then? You're fucking _cheating _on Emily now? I _knew _you were an asshole."

"I'm not cheating on her," he informed her sharply. "We had an agreement."

"A _what_?_" _Michelle looked horrified. _What? _Naomi echoed internally. _Emily and Tony had fucking TALKED about this? Why didn't she enlighten me about my end of the bargain? _Naomi's eyebrows hit the roof.

"What, are you two like swinging or something now?" she enquired, her voice sounding slightly hysterical even to herself. "Alright everyone, put your keys in the middle of the circle now! Lets play Spin the Bottle and just decide who goes home with who tonight!"

"Us _two_?" Tony ignored the rest of her pantomime, cutting right to the chase. "So I guess what you're trying to say is that you waited until I was gone for approximately three seconds before you _fucked my girlfriend, _is that it?"

"It's really none of your business Tony," she informed him tightly. "Not if you had a fucking _arrangement. _Besides - you look like you've been doing alright out of it yourself," she gestured at Michelle.

"That's got nothing to do with it-"

"Yes it does! What if Emily does come here looking for you? Do you think she'd just stick around for a nice cosy chat?"

"Oh…fuck…" everyone looked at Michelle, who was suddenly pale. "Just...shit. I answered the buzzer late the other night, and no one was there. Do you think…?"

"No way…"

"Jesus christ, Tony you fuckwit!"

"I can't believe you-"

"Everyone shut up," Effy instructed. "Here's how it is right now: Emily and Tony love each other. Naomi loves Emily and Michelle loves Tony. So, nothing is ever perfect... _Wait-" _she interrupted as everyone tried to talk at once. "Emily has been struggling with this for a really long time. Naomi's gone and just completely undone her and Tony's been too busy fucking his ex to care," she glared at them both in turn. "So now she's out there somewhere, on her own and we need to find her," she concluded.

There was a silence. Until Katie asked what everyone else was thinking. "And then what?"

"Then we make sure she knows she's loved. For being Emily. _Okay?_" she eyeballed her old friend. Katie just looked surly.

"Well then," said Tony. "Let's go," he hobbled over to put on his shoes. Michelle grabbed her jacket.

"Where do you think you're going?" asked Katie in disbelief. Michelle paused.

"What? I'm not going to just sit at home and do the fucking dishes while I let him run off to his ex-girlfriend, am I? I'm coming!"

"She's not my ex-girlfriend!" Tony roared suddenly. "_You _are, remember? Emily is still my girlfriend," he announced to the room. "And I really fucking wish that everyone would remember that," he shot Naomi another sideways glare. She rolled her eyes in response.

"I'm coming," Michelle repeated firmly. _Great. This was going to be great._

"Uh, right, so where are we going?" Naomi asked. "Because correct me if I'm wrong, but unlike me, you've all known Emily for fucking years and none of you seem to have any idea where the hell she'd go."

"Actually," paused Tony. "I think I might know."

.


	19. Chapter 18

Everybody squeezed into Effy's car. Naomi found herself wedged in next to Tony of all people and she pressed herself up against the door to avoid touching him. She blamed him for this whole ridiculous mess. If he hadn't been fucking Michelle then maybe this story would have been a short one…Emily would have turned up at his place, they could have talked things through and both realised they were happier with other people. She was confident…once Emily had time to think things over, to clear up all that noise that was clouding her head, once they talked…she would know that she and Naomi belonged together. _She had to. _Naomi refused to consider the alternative. She remembered the way Emily's eyes had burned into hers, the hunger she'd let loose on her body and she shuddered with want. _Emily feels it too. I know she does._

She watched the lights of the city blur past her. All the occupants of the car were silent now, lost in their own thoughts. Naomi was glad she wasn't a mind reader; she was pretty sure that despite the outward quiet, every brain in this car was arguing away angrily to someone. _Katie…she's seen Emily like this before, she must have. She's the one who __made Emily so fucking afraid of herself in the first place. _She tried to be angry at her…she _was _angry at her, she must be. But she could see Katie's profile as she stared out the window of the seat in front of her; she looked incredibly tired. Tired and worried out of her mind. That fact alone caused her own fear to increase ten-fold. She wondered what worse case scenarios were going through Katie's head. _Do they have one of those twin bonds? Does she know something but she's not saying it?_

Tony's arm brushed against hers and she squeezed even further away from him, not bothering to hide the irritation in her movement. _Asshole. What's wrong with him anyway, letting Emily go like that? Wanker clearly has no idea just what he had. _She glared at the thought. _So, what, now he wants to fuck his ex-girlfriend and keep Emily too? I don't fucking think so... _She couldn't help wondering what the hell was going through his brain right now. Okay yeah, he was a complete prick, but she'd seen him around Emily. The guy fucking loved her, how could he not? _It's not enough though_, she thought. That was when she realised. _He's knows that too. _Christ, what a fucking mess.

Poor Michelle. Where did that leave her? A second choice? A comfort shag? She was completely gorgeous and she'd clearly been important to Tony once upon a time. She deserved better than this. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the woman's hand holding onto Tony's knee for dear life. He seemed oblivious. _Was he really though? _She recalled him yelling at Michelle in front of everyone, telling her to remember her that she didn't have the hold on him the way she obviously wanted. That she was of the past, that Tony still belonged to Emily._Why the hell is she still here? Why would she put up with that? _She wondered about their history…_what did she see in him? What could possibly make a girl like that humiliate herself this way for a guy like Tony Stonem?_

Effy would be able to tell her, she decided. There was something about that girl…something in the calm of her eyes, even now as she drove them through the darkened streets, swerving for drunks and taxi drivers, the tension in the car suffocating everyone else. Naomi couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling that Effy could read everyone's thoughts, but instead of being overwhelmed and crazed by them like Naomi would be, she could see somehow the bigger picture and because of that, the minor details of everyone else's insanity were just amusing to her. _I think maybe Effy might not __be fully human, _she decided. _Possibly some kind of lesser deity. _Effy caught her eye in the rearview mirror and raised her eyebrow slightly: _You're right. Don't tell anyone though._

They pulled up to park where Tony directed them. "Are you sure?" Katie sounded dubious. "Why here and not anywhere else?"

"Positive," Tony replied, slamming the car door. "Confused, scared, angry," he listed. "She's going to want to let off steam and when we lived here, this was always the place she'd go to do that. It would feel safe and familiar to her right now, but also freeing. She'll be there, I know it." He sounded so arrogantly convinced that he knew Emily so fucking well that despite how desperately Naomi wanted to find her, she almost wanted him to be wrong. She reminded herself that history wasn't everything, that if she was just given the chance, she'd prove herself to be the one person that Emily showed all of herself to. God she wanted that so fucking badly. _You and me Tony…we'll compare notes one day. You don't know shit about who she really is. I might not have all the details yet, but I already know her better than you ever can._

"Fine, whatever, we'll check it out," Katie sounded equally miffed at Tony's smooth belief he knew her twin more than anyone else did. Effy locked the car and they all started to walk. Katie and Naomi, both adamantly keeping their distance from Emily's boyfriend, wound up walking together.

"Katie?" she asked tentatively. "Do you think she's going to be alright? I just mean…even if you guys aren't close these days, she's still your twin. You still know her in a different way to everyone else." Katie's eyes became glassy and she frowned, looking away to compose herself before she replied.

"I don't know," she answered. "You know, when we were little, Emily and me…we were always together…everything together. Eating, sleeping…until we were nine we used to take a dump at the same time," she smirked wryly.

"Jesus!" Naomi laughed at Katie's unexpected frankness. Katie shrugged.

"No secrets. There was no point. But then _this _one came along…and Emily changed. I felt like I was losing her and I didn't know why. Then this thing with Effy happened…" her voice trailed off. "I drove Emily away, I know I did, when all I really wanted was to protect her - fucking keep her…she was always _mine_, you know?" she looked so fierce for a second that Naomi flinched, knowing that to Katie she was just someone else who wanted to take Emily away from her. Katie sighed. "And now we're like fucking strangers these days. I hate it. But she's still _Emily_. I don't want us to be this way."

"It's not like it's too late Katie," she said quietly. "Emily misses you, she told me."

"I know she does," Katie looked sad. "It's just weird. We still do twin stuff…dye our hair the same colour...speak twin when we really can't get the fucking message across. But there's just too much _stuff _there. She doesn't trust me with her secrets so we're fucked, really."

"Not if you start letting her be honest with you," Naomi pointed out.

"Maybe," Katie shrugged. They both looked up as they approached their destination. The big warehouse shuddered with the vibration of the music pumping from within. There was a line outside but Tony lead them to the front of it, exchanging words with the bouncer who just nodded them all through, despite the irritation of everyone in the queue. As they walked inside, the music hit Naomi right in the chest, she could feel it reverberating through her whole body. The place was packed, wall to wall with bodies, her vision blurred slightly from the flashing lights and the movement of the crowd, everyone and everything moving constantly. Right away she was convinced that arseholeface was right; there was no better place to lose yourself in. But how the fuck would they find one tiny redhead in a crowd this size? She looked around, realising she was alone. _Right. We split up._

She pushed through the sweaty bodies, her heart pounding. Every shoulder she pulled back she expected to see Emily, right in front of her. _I have to find her before Tony does_, she realised, her panic rising. People shoved against her, tried to pull her in to dance, one guy grabbed her hand and spun her. _Fuck, I want what they're on_…she imagined the buzz of MDMA running through her body again, finally finding Emily and not having to exchange any words, just melting into each other as they danced and kissed. _We could stop thinking and just BE_. She shook her head to clear it. _Fucking pill poppers_, just being around them was contagious sometimes. _Some day soon, _she promised herself, _when all __of this is over, I'm going to take Emily out again and just let loose._

That's when she saw her. Emily was down a level from where she stood; she caught the light glint off her hair in the crowded dance floor just below. Naomi gripped onto the railing, feeling her breath catch in her chest. Emily paused in her dancing, as if she was suddenly aware of being watched and she looked up, giddily towards the ceiling as if listening for something. Her eyes were glazed and her face and hair were drenched with sweat. The music changed pace and Emily lost herself dancing again, pushing herself back up onto another plane. Naomi was just about to move down through the crowd to find her, when the guy standing behind the redhead started to dance up against her, grinding himself on her back and grabbing at her tits. She froze in horror as Emily just tilted her head back, letting him kiss her neck as they danced, not fucking giving a shit. Suddenly Emily was ripped away and Naomi spotted two redhead's moving speedily away through the crowd, one leading and one in tow.

She stood there, feeling sick for a moment. Then she turned as well and made for the exit. The fresh night air hit her in the face like a slap as she pushed out into the alleyway.

When her eyes readjusted to the dark she quickly spotted them. Emily was sitting hunched up on the curb, her feet in the gutter, crying, while Katie stood waving her hands around. "What the _fuck, _Emily?" she heard her yell.

"Emily," Naomi's voice came out in a croak as she approached. Emily looked up, her eyes looking wild.

"Jesus, Naomi!" she cried. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to find you," she said softly. Emily's mascara had run down her face, but Naomi could still see her pupils, huge and black from the drug and the way her jaw clamped as she shivered. "Ems…" she crouched down to look her in the eye, managing not to reach out for her. "Ems-"

"There they are!" came the sudden shout. Emily stumbled to her feet and backed away, leaning warily against the brick wall, as Tony ran towards them, Michelle quick on his heels and Effy walking slowly behind them.

"Emily…thank god," Tony pushed past Katie and Naomi and went to put his arms around the shivering girl. She shoved at him, not wanting to be touched.

"What the fuck is going on?" she cried. "Why are you all here? Why is _she _here?" she stared at Michelle in shock.

"Babe, it's okay. It's okay…we were just worried about you," Tony squeezed her shoulder. She flinched.

"_We?" _she asked. "What are you…how did you…?" she shook her head slowly, looking absolutely sick. Katie spoke up.

"Alright, don't freak _out _Ems. You disappeared - and after Naomi saw you hadn't been in your apartment, or at work, she was scared that you were losing your shit over what happened with you guys and so me and Effy-"

"Katie," Naomi interrupted. "Shut up."

"Naomi?" Emily's voice was suddenly high pitched. "You _told _everyone?"

"Ems, no…well…yeah, but I was scared that-"

"You were in my apartment?" she shouted. "You talked about it to my _work_? Naomi…what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"You disappeared!" she cried. "You wouldn't answer your phone. I didn't know what had happened to y-"

"You told my fucking homophobic sister that we'd _slept together_? And _then _you told my best friend and then my fucking _boyfriend?" _Emily choked as the words left her mouth.

"Emily-"

"I trusted you!" she started to cry. Naomi's heart snapped. She ran her hands through her tangled hair and gazed up at the night sky, hoping to find the words to fix this. When she looked down again, Emily was crying into Tony's neck as he held her tightly.

"I'm sorry Red. I love you…it's going to be okay." _NO. No no no no no no no no no. _There was a loud smash as Michelle picked up an empty beer bottle from the gutter and threw it at the wall, shattering into a thousand tiny shards. No one even jumped. She turned and walked away, disappearing into the darkness. Tony turned his head, pausing, and Emily struggled out of his grip. Then she crouched down in the gutter and was neatly sick. Katie sat down beside her and held her hair back, finally silent as she watched Emily throw up. Tony and Naomi just stared at each other, their eyes locked in desperation. For the first time Naomi felt close to him. They were both fucked.

"Right. Come on then," Effy said calmly, completely disregarding Emily's choking. "Lets go home." She began to walk and as Emily got slowly to her feet, everyone trailed after the one person who seemed to know what they were doing. Naomi and Tony both paused, turning around to gaze at Emily, both wanting to be the one bringing her home.

"For fuck's sake you two," glared Katie, waving them on. She took Emily's hand in hers and the whole sorry procession made its way back to the car. Tony pushed on ahead, Naomi only realising the sneakiness of his move when she reached the car and saw him already sat in the back seat, leaving Emily wedged between her twin and her boyfriend and Naomi marooned in the front seat.

"Tony," asked Effy. "Where am I dropping you?"

"Emily…?" he looked at her. "Stay with me tonight. Everything will be fine, I promise."

"Changed your sheets yet, have you?" she glared at him. "I don't fucking think so. I want to go home."

"Then I'm coming with you," Tony announced. "Bristol it is, Effs."

Naomi turned in her seat and stared at Emily. She couldn't believe this was happening. Emily looked back for a beat and then shook her head flatly and looked away out the window. It was then Naomi noticed her matching paint streaks across her arm and throat.

**.**

**.**

The rest of the car journey was made in almost complete silence. When they finally reached Bristol Naomi felt physically bruised by the weight of it. They pulled up at an unfamiliar house and Katie turned, then hugged her sister hard. "I love you," Naomi heard her whisper. "I love you so much. Okay?" Emily clung to her for a minute and when she pulled back she was crying. "I'll call you tomorrow," Katie finished, getting out of the car.

A few blocks later they pulled up outside the ugly building Emily and Tony shared. He got out, holding the door open for Emily, expectantly. She paused, looking at Naomi, miserably, but then followed him out without a word. _Enough, _Naomi decided. _This is fucking enough. _She got out of the car, slamming the door, making both Emily and Tony pause, turning around. Ignoring Tony's presence she addressed Emily alone, raising her hands helplessly.

"I'm sorry…Emily. I fucked everything up. I just wanted you to be safe," her arms dropped to her sides. "But Ems…you and me…we need to talk about this," she informed the redhead quietly. Emily shook her head slowly.

"I can't do this Naomi. I'm sorry, it's…way too much. I just...can't…" tears flooded down her cheeks. Naomi knew this was the moment she had to tell Emily that she'd wait for her, that she wouldn't push, that she'd always be there, no matter how long it took. Instead this came out.

"I'm in love with you."

Emily just looked at her. "I know," she said quietly. "You told me that already." She looked at Naomi, then at the ground. And then, she turned and walked away, following Tony into the building, the door swinging shut behind them.

**.**

**.**

A full minute passed and Naomi was still staring the closed door. "Get in the car," Effy's voice came through the open window.

"I'll walk," she said, shaking her head.

"Get in the fucking car." Naomi obeyed and Effy drove off. She turned the wheel without asking for directions before pulling up at the entrance to her street. Naomi didn't ask how she knew where she lived. _All knowing, all seeing_. "Emily pointed your house out to me once," Effy answered her anyway. "She talks about you all the time, you know."

"I don't need this kind of consolation prize Effy," she said tightly, opening the door.

"Naomi," Effy's voice stopped her. "You saw the paint, right?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Meant nothing though apparently," she closed the door and walked down the side street and unlocked her front door. Funny, she didn't remember leaving the lights on. At the top of the stairs she paused, taking in the still figure on her couch, the only neat and tidy thing in the entire wreck that was her apartment. "Al…" she paused.

Alicia looked back at her, taking in her rumpled clothes, her red eyes, and her unwashed appearance before she stood up, crossing the room.

"Naomi," she said softly, wrapping her arms around her. Naomi leaned into her shoulder and started to cry. Alicia kissed her dirty hair and then her wet cheek and then her mouth. She held her tightly and whispered into her ear, "Naomi. You still need me, you know."


	20. Chapter 19

Emily scrubbed hard at her skin. The hot soapy water made her feel just for a minute, like maybe she might be able to live after all. She caught sight of little flecks of green paint circling the drain and she scrubbed harder, washing away the night, the smoke, the drugs, the car ride, the alcohol, the looks everyone had given her and most of all, the words that had been spoken. She wished she could somehow block her ears for the rest of her life. She certainly didn't want to ever speak again. She wrapped the towel tightly around her body, hating the sight of her own skin. Flushed with the heat from the shower she still wanted to dress herself in every item of clothing she owned. She couldn't stand how naked she felt. _I don't want anyone to fucking touch me ever again._

She knew that as soon as she unlocked the bathroom door her solitude would be intruded upon. Tony was sitting waiting for her in the living room. The apartment was silent but his presence still seemed to be shouting at her. Her mouth was dry and she gagged as she brushed her teeth before finally raising her head to look herself in the eye. Her pupils were slowly returning to their normal size but she still seemed strange to herself. Pale despite the hot water, marked somehow despite the soap. Nothing could fix this. All Emily wanted right now, was to wrap herself up in her bed and sleep for days. She couldn't fathom the fact that there were conversations to be had with boyfriends and resolutions to be made to lovers. _Solitude…it's not such a big ask is it?_

Funny. She'd been alone for days already but it still wasn't enough. She wasn't sure it was ever going to be enough to erase everything that had happened…_What had happened? _She'd somehow fallen asleep next to Naomi and woken up in her arms, their limbs entangled, their faces almost touching. As her eyes blinked slowly open she'd found herself staring at Naomi's sleeping face. _My friend, Naomi. Naked in my arms. Naomi. My…friend. My…oh jesus…_the thoughts that had been silenced so effectively by Naomi's lips on her skin returned to whirr frantically almost at once. Images blurred past her as her heart began to race. The moment she'd seen Naomi's veil slip for the first time and realised with a shock that the look on the blonde's face was one of desperate want, right before she kissed her breath away. Emily had had no idea there was anything for the blonde to veil until that very second. _When did that happen? _she asked herself. _When did she start wanting me? And…why? _It seemed so bizarre to her: from someone like Alicia to someone like Emily, from Naomi's vibrant colourful world to Emily's increasingly small beige one. _Who does she think I am?_

More images presented themselves for her consideration…images that made her pulse with heat. That feeling when she'd given in to Naomi's kiss, reaching down to taste her warm mouth, grip onto her body and open herself up to Naomi's touch. The thought that had run through her mind, _finally…oh god, finally…_what did that even mean? Coming undone around Naomi's strong fingers, with those blue eyes blazing into hers. _She sees me. _It was the most terrifying moment of her life; she'd nearly ran right then and there. But there was something else she'd had to do first. Her motivations for what had happened next were complicated. She had something to prove, a lot to prove actually…to herself, to Naomi. She wanted to take control of this somehow, turn it back onto Naomi and see that same helpless need she'd felt reflected back at her, erasing her own intense vulnerability in the process. She didn't want this to be yet another thing that she'd just let happen, like every other thing in her life that she'd let happen...always being in the shadow of her twin, being the coward in college, ending up an accountant and ending up _trapped_. For the first time she'd really put a name to the feeling she had about her life.

And now, she wanted to be freed. _No, _she wanted to free herself. As she'd stripped Naomi of her clothes and pushed her down onto the bed she'd felt powerful for the first time in years. Ten years in fact. Since that night with Effy to be absolutely precise.

The feeling was indescribable. _Naomi. _Beautiful, individual, free Naomi…gasping beneath her as if being driven crazy by her caresses, moaning into her skin as if she just couldn't get enough of her, Emily's presence and touch enough to make her dripping wet with desire. Emily found her out, tasted her arousal, slammed her fingers into her, _proving it…proving everything, _and as she made Naomi come she'd thought suddenly _this is the best thing I've ever done in my life. _Her proudest moment. _I'm someone_, she thought, _I'm fucking amazing in fact. _And Naomi had seen her face and laughed. Because it _was _funny to her…Naomi had somehow known Emily could be amazing all along. That Emily herself had only realised that just now was fucking hilarious to the blonde. Warmth raced through her as she traced her fingers over Naomi's soft skin.

But then Naomi had ruined it. Emily could feel her wanting to talk and stopped her. _How could she possibly think I could talk about this? Is she insane? _Then Tony came flooding back to her, _I've betrayed him. I can't lose him. He's my rock, he's my anchor, he's what makes me safe…_all of the power and confidence she'd glimpsed trickled away as suddenly as it had arrived. As if sensing Emily was about to bolt, Naomi recaptured her lips and tried to comfort her. No, not comfort her…something else entirely. She did something far worse instead. _She made love to me. _There Emily was, already naked, already having been discovered, found out and _seen_, lying in the sheets feeling torn as her life shattered into little pieces and Naomi chose that moment to pull her back into herself, bring her sharply back into focus and say _THIS is who you are. This is who you are and who I love. _She hadn't known what it was Naomi felt for her until then. _It's friendship…right? Friendship with desire. She cares about me. She…lusts over me. _But none of that even came close. God those eyes, burning into her, the intense tenderness with which she was caressed, enflamed, taken, watched, possessed. Every action, every brutally undisguised gaze, said _I love you, I fucking love you, I'm in love with you, Emily Fitch. _Over and over again. _Are you listening to me? Look at me. I know you. I love you. _And the unspoken question. _What are you going to do about it?_

_What am I going to do about it? I'm going to run. Don't you know that already? I'm Emily fucking Fitch. I'm a coward and you terrify me. I'm not like you. I'm not sure like you. I can't be free like you, like this. I can't be who you want me to be. _She'd thought Naomi had undone her before, but she'd had no idea she was even capable of feeling like _this. _Undone, unhinged, unmoored. Tony would leave her, Naomi would run out of patience…_she doesn't deserve to wait around for me and she knows it. _Emily knew these facts and more…Katie would disown her entirely - again, Effy was already angry just from suspecting Emily was the traitor she'd now proven herself to be, her family's love was absolutely conditional on her staying in line and she was so far over the line right now she couldn't even see it anymore. _I'm alone. _Naomi had held her as she cried, but she couldn't meet her eyes. _I've lost you already. I've lost you and I'd only just found you._

Now Emily leaned on the bathroom sink. _Fucking crying again_. _Why are you crying for? You did all this. You did it. Thought you could escape? Thought you could be free? Think again Fitch. _She wiped her eyes and dressed herself in Katie's old pyjamas, the soft loose fabric covering her skin and the shape of her body. She desperately did not want to be looked at. Finally though, she couldn't stall anymore and she cracked the door open, spotting Tony sitting on the couch. He eyed her through the small opening, so she was forced finally to walk out and take a seat beside him. She kept firmly to her end of the sofa; he knew better now than to try and touch her.

"Feel better?"

"No."

They sat in silence for a long while. Tony hadn't moved or changed since they'd walked in the door. He hadn't even taken off his shoes.

"Emily. What are we doing?"

"Do we really have to do this right now?"

"Fuck yes, I'm afraid we do," he stared at her, willing her to really engage herself for once.

"Fine." She dropped her eyes to the floor and took a deep breath in. "Do you love Michelle? Is that what's happening?"

"I've always loved her. But she's still my past Emily. I'd always thought you were my future."

"And now?" Slowly she forced herself to turn her head and meet his eyes. He looked back at her for a long time.

"I think we're both deluded."

"Um…Tony, I'm sorry but I'm way too tired for this. I need to sleep and I need to-"

"Face up to some things? I think you'll find that's what you need Emily."

"Don't fucking tell me what I need okay? I'm exhausted and this isn't a fair conversation." She hugged her knees to her chest wanting more protection between herself and his words. She sunk her chin to her knees, _please leave me alone, please _she begged him internally. The cracks appearing inside her were so big now she couldn't believe her skin was still intact.

"Do you love her? Come on, Emily, look at me." She dropped her head, burying her face in the pink flannel.

"No! Yes. I don't know…jesus. There's lots of ways to love someone Tony."

"See, that's our problem Red. I know I love you and I know you love me back. But there's something missing between us that I don't think you're missing when you're with Naomi. I'm right aren't I?"

"I don't know, Tony. What's missing?" She wanted to sleep. Fuck she wanted to sleep. Maybe she could pass out right now and he could have the conversation without her.

"Passion," he said. Her eyes fluttered open, staring at the pink before her eyes. _Passion. _Naomi's paintings. They were the first images that flew into her mind as he spoke the word. For the first time she imagined what it would be like, to watch Naomi as she worked. Not showing off and demonstrating like she had the first time she'd visited her studio, but actually working. Arms bare, paint everywhere, the look on her face as she struggled to express everything that was in her soul. Suddenly Emily realised how acutely erotic that would be to her…not even to touch her, just to be there in the room, ignored as Naomi was completely herself.

She began to cry all over again as she finally conceded the truth. She did love Tony, she always had. But there was nothing about him that stirred her this way…this horrible, sickening, terrifying and completely beyond all control kind of way. He couldn't cause her heart to pound so hard it physically shook her. He couldn't cause her insides to crack so far open she expected everyone in the street to see. He couldn't make her gut clench or her bones to ache with want and fear and desire. And most of all, he'd never make her brave enough to push through all that, just to reach out and touch the one thing she wanted most. The one person who could ruin her life.

When she finally raised her head Tony's face was different to how she'd ever seen it before. It was like she was seeing him with new eyes.

"You're my best friend," she choked out, seeing it for the first time.

"And you're mine," he said, with tears in his eyes.

**.**

**.**

They went to bed. For the first time ever he didn't try and hold her as they slept. Instead he kissed her forehead before he turned away and they curled up on their own sides of the bed._Alone_, she thought. _I'm alone. _It wasn't a bad feeling. _I could stand here on my own, _she thought. _I could walk around on my own and one day I could decide I wanted something. I could want something for myself. And then I could ask for it. Reach out and take what was offered. I don't need to ask anyone's permission anymore. Not Katie's, not my parents, not anyone at college, not my boss, not my boyfriend. _For a second Emily imagined leaving right now. Getting up and walking down the street to Naomi's house, pyjamas and all. Telling her that as confused as she was and as terrified and unsure, she couldn't stay away from her. Leave it for Naomi to decide whether or not she could take that risk with her. But the exhaustion finally took her and she slept instead. _Tomorrow _was her last thought, a thrill of terror and euphoria brushing over her right before she sunk into warmth and darkness.


	21. Chapter 20

Naomi pulled back out of Alicia's arms. "Everything is such a mess," she said quietly, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. Alicia surveyed her critically.

"You're not wrong," she said. "This isn't you Naomi. You normally have better sense than this."

"No, I don't," Naomi looked at her as if she was insane. Alicia laughed.

"No, you don't," she agreed. "But you normally have better taste at least. Seriously Naomi, what the fuck were you thinking, falling for a closet case with a boyfriend? Oh and dumping your girlfriend and manager all in one hit? Not to mention destroying your lovely house with that hideous paint job…and fucking hell, when was the last time you showered?" her nose wrinkled with distaste and Naomi rolled her eyes.

"My girlfriend and manager dumped _me_," she corrected her. "And yeah…I'm completely fucked." There really was no point in trying to hide it at all. Alicia eyed her narrowly.

"Yes, you are. Royally fucked in fact. And you've got no idea how bad it's going to get. That's the reason I'm here," she told her, a sudden exasperated expression taking over her face. "Naomi…_Art World _comes out next week. You remember the editor, Sophia, from the exhibition opening at City Gallery? You know, she had a crush on you? Well, she's given me a head's up about the content of the new issue, purely as a courtesy measure." Naomi looked at her, bewildered. This was Alicia her ex-manager talking, not Alicia her ex-girlfriend.

"Okay," she shrugged. "What content?"

"I don't know what you said to that journalist McLair, or what the fuck you were thinking when you did it," she paused, trying to read Naomi's face and seeing nothing but confusion. "They _know _Naomi. What happened in London…they know the truth and they're going to expose you."

"…Oh," was all she managed. _Right. Fuck. _"How?"

"I think I have a few ideas. We're going to have to jump fast on this though," she looked steely for a moment. "Like I said Naomi, you need me."

"Maybe I do," she admitted. "What does that mean though Al? I didn't think you wanted anything more to do with me." Alicia looked at her, frowning.

"I don't," she raised her eyes skyward. "But Naomi…I still care about you…we made a good team. This could ruin everything we worked so hard to create. Maybe you shat all over our relationship but I don't want everything else to get fucked up along the way…jesus I worked _hard _for you. Don't ruin it."

"I made you that much money huh?" Christ, she just couldn't help herself sometimes_._

Anger flashed in Alicia's eyes.

"Fuck you Naomi. It took a lot for me to come here tonight, but how about I just go and leave you to…this?" she gestured around at the shambles of her house, her life.

"No! …Alicia, I'm sorry. I've just - it's been a shit couple of days," Alicia just eyed her, looking unmoved. "Please don't leave," she muttered finally. _Asshole, I'm an asshole._

"Okay. We'll do this then," Alicia decided. "But not until after you take a fucking shower. You reek." Alicia sat back on the couch, crossing her perfect legs, clasping her perfect fingers and giving her a look of perfect disgust.

"Fine." Naomi said, her expression dignified as she stalked elegantly to the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

**.**

**.**

At least in the shower no one could hear her as she broke down and cried like a baby. A big part of her wanted to tell Alicia she didn't give a shit if her career went down the fucking toilet. Because really, did any of it matter? Luckily, a small part of her knew that right now, her career was pretty much all she had left. So fine, she didn't feel like fucking painting at the moment. But ending up having to take a job at McDonald's probably wasn't going to make her feel any better. _Enough _she commanded herself, rubbing the last of the paint off her face. _Enough going to pieces over Emily Fitch. It's not helping me __win her is it?_

She still couldn't quite believe how it had all turned out. She'd done everything she could think of to gain Emily back. She'd given her time and space, then raised hell on earth and Katie Fitch in order to find her. She'd tried to tread carefully at first so as not to freak her out. Then finally, she'd even fucking admitted to her that she loved her. And what had she got back? Nothing but "I know,"right before Emily had turned and left with fucking Tony. _Why don't you just rub some glass shards straight into my heart? Why don't you just kick me in the fucking face? _The hurt, childlike part of herself wanted to march over to Emily's right now and start screaming at her. _How the hell does she think it's even possible for her to walk away from this? Can't she see we're made for each other? She's really going to keep on running, even now? Keep pretending that this isn't what it is? _Insane. It was so insane. She punched the tiled wall with her wet fist.

She couldn't quite bring herself to regret any of it though. Every single second of Emily's soft bare skin under her hands, every kiss she'd stolen from her, every gasp, every whimper, every moan. It was all worth every bit of the pain that stabbed at her now. She smiled into the water, despite it all. She remembered Emily's hunger, the depth of her response, the look in her eyes as she pushed her onto the bed. The knowledge returned to her with sudden clarity; Emily would not, no matter how hard she tried, be able to deny this forever. Naomi's main hope was that Tony would do the right thing now and refuse to collude with her any more. She desperately did not want to imagine them patching things up right now. _Oh god, would they? If I was Tony I'd be moving heaven and earth to get her to stay with me, no matter what it took. The question is only this: how willing, really, is Emily to hide from herself? _For that, she had no answer.

Stepping out of the shower and drying herself with a big soft fluffy towel, she realised that there really was only one thing she could do now. _Wait. I will wait and wait and wait __with all my might and all my strength. And one day, when I've waited enough…she'll be there. _She commenced waiting. She waited a few more seconds. _Any minute now, _she promised herself.

**.**

**.**

For the next three hours Alicia and Naomi discussed strategy. This kind of thing usually made her feel sick as it was, and it was made worse by the fact that she really hated Alicia's plan this time. She knew the woman was right though. She'd brought all this on herself and there really was no way around it. There was a part of her that enjoyed this…Alicia beside her again, glowing with brilliance and bristling with capability. _I wish I was as together as she is…as strong…even as demanding. _She wondered then if that was what had attracted her to Alicia in the first place. _I'm still in awe of her. She knows what she wants and she goes for it, expecting to get it. _She wondered whether maybe if she'd used that approach with Emily she would have been more successful. God, all that tiptoeing around and being gentle, _I should have just pushed her up against the washing machines and snogged her face off the moment I saw her, _she was reflecting right as Alicia reached out and put her hand on her knee. Her eyes snapped up to her ex- girlfriend's face.

"Naomi," she said softly. "It's not too late for us you know. So you…strayed a little. We could move past that and-"

Naomi gently removed Alicia's hand, stopping her. There could be no regrets here. "Al. I can't, I'm sorry." She waited for the explosion, but Alicia just sighed instead.

"Okay," she said simply. "Dare I ask…what happened, with Emily?" Naomi hunched her knees up to her chest and looked away.

"Nothing. Well, no something. But she can't face up to it yet. Or maybe, she just doesn't want me badly enough." Tears prickled in her eyes again and she glared ferociously at the half painted wall trying to stop them from falling.

"For fuck's sake Naomi. Of course she wants you," snapped Alicia. "Doesn't take a genius to work it out. Give it time. You'll be revoltingly in love and I'll fucking hate you both for it." Naomi looked at her in surprise.

"Uh, thanks…Al," she said warily.

"Can we get back to the important matters at hand now please?"

Eventually they went to bed. Alicia picked the couch and as incongruous as she found the idea of her spoiled princess of an ex voluntarily bunking on the sofa, Naomi was relieved she didn't have to explain the state of her paint smeared bed sheets to her. She woke up in the morning to the sound of the doorbell, and wandered out blearily, but Alicia was already coming back up the stairs.

"Who was that?" she asked.

"No one," Alicia replied smoothly. "Breakfast?"


	22. Chapter 21

Emily took a deep breath in and knocked at the door. Her heart was pounding and she felt a little bit nauseated. _You can do this. You can do this. You can- fuck! _"Emily?" came the voice. "Come on in." Her boss closed the door to his office and she sat down. "What can I do for you?" Emily slowly let out the breath she'd been holding.

"I quit."

"Sorry?"

"I quit." She shrugged and looked him in the eye. "Sorry for the inconvenience," she said, feeling slightly bad as the next words came out her mouth, "but I won't be working my notice period either. I've left instructions for the next person and I'm sure you can hire a temp. Or you know…a monkey."

"I see. Can I ask why, Miss Fitch?" the tone was no longer warm.

"Job sucks. I hate it. It's killing me. Fucking hate everything about this place. Oh and Christopher? He's an asshole. Absolute creep. And I'm going to file a complaint with head office since nothing's been done about him," she shot him a sharp look. "Anyway…I heard it might snow this afternoon, so I think I'll leave now, actually. Go and take a long walk in it, make the most of the day, y'know?" Mr McPhereson looked at her with a gob smacked expression.

"Snow," she prompted. "White…fluffy…falls from the sky? Oh well, you'll hear about it later. Have a lovely day." With a polite nod of farewell, she walked back out to pack up her desk. She looked at her meagre belongings - a coffee cup, a small stuffed dog James had given her, her rapidly growing rubber band ball. "Fuck it," she left it all for the poor sod replacing her and turned to leave.

"What was that?" asked Christopher, eyeing her curiously. "Fuck _me _did you say? Emily I thought I told you to stop begging already. Gagging for it aren't you love?" She met his leer and slowly advanced over to his desk. As he swivelled in his chair to watch her sardonically, she lifted her foot and ignored the sneer on his face as he caught a glimpse up her skirt. Having successfully distracted him, she nestled her foot in his crotch and then pressed down sharply with her heel. He screamed, clutching at her ankle, paralysed with the pain and unable to budge her.

"No…fuck you, you pathetic slime," she pressed harder. "Don't think you'll be fucking anyone for a while though now…" she kept the pressure up for a few more seconds.

"I'm s-sorry…FUCK I'm sorry, please…" he groaned.

"I thought I told you to stop begging already," she mimicked, then removed her foot and walked briskly out to the elevator for the last fucking time. She walked out through the lobby with a slight bounce in her step. "Bye Maxxie," she blew the pretty receptionist a kiss. "Don't take any shit," she smiled at him as he returned the kiss and waved.

It didn't snow that day in the end, but she walked for a while anyway. She shoved her gloved hands deep into her pockets, feeling the chill mostly in her exposed ears and the tip of her nose. She walked through the park, wondering if she'd catch sight of a peroxide blonde, maybe holding hands with the green eyed lover she'd gotten back together with, but there was no one. Kicking softly at the grass for a minute, she turned and kept walking.

She wandered the streets for a while, gazing into shop windows, occasionally coming in just to escape the cold. In the bookshop she found herself drawn to the art section, rifling through the big heavy pages of something Naomi had raved over on the day of their icecream date. The pictures were of paintings that Emily hadn't really seen the appeal of at the time, but she'd enjoyed the excited tone in Naomi's voice and the proximity of her body as they'd gazed at the pages together. She briefly considered buying it for her, then remembered all over again. _No Emily…you fucked it, remember? Alicia's probably already bought it for her anyway. Alicia's probably bought her the actual paintings in fact. Or maybe the whole fucking gallery. You can't compete with that._

She walked back out into the cold. She was peering into the window of the jewellery store when a voice rang out behind her.

"Bonkers! It's Katie or Emily isn't it?" She turned around to face the owner of the voice. "Emily! I know it's you because you're not really dressed like you're a shameless whore!" The woman hugged her.

"Thanks Panda, you look great too. Where have you been?"

"Oh, here, there and everywhere. Well, Wales mostly…that always happens, doesn't it? Anyway I'm back now and I've found the lushest house to move into. It's pink! Totally pink like it's embarrassed all the time, I don't know what a house has got to be embarrassed about, but I guess I'll find out eventually." She fished a piece of card out of her bag. "I'm off to put this up in the organic shop, cos I bumped into Freddie yesterday and he said that hippies make the best housemates because they'll share everything with you and they don't use up all the hot water since they don't ever bathe! What do you think?" She shoved the notice into Emily's hands and she read,

_One pink house and one non-pink (mostly) person looking for another person (of any shade, though green would be a bit odd) to come and be our new friend! Must be female (so you don't have to hide in the wardrobe when my mum visits) and totally bonkers! Bonuses would be that you're clean and tidy, fond of biscuits and up for the odd game of twister. But not in a sexy way. And to clarify, this is a housemate ad, not a personals ad. My personals ad can be found at www…._

Emily stopped reading. "Pandora," she started. "This ad is going to get you killed." Pandora looked surprised.

"But I drew a picture of the house and everything…see look, it has cheeks and it's blushing!" Emily smiled.

"Panda…I've just broken up with my boyfriend. I'm unemployed, a completely confused mess and I fucking hate twister." She rushed on as Pandora looked hurt. "My legs are too short and I always lose," she explained. "But I _am _definitely quite fond of biscuits…where is this house exactly?"

Panda's house turned out to be gorgeous. And thankfully, only pink on the outside. Emily took one look at the neglected flower garden out the front, the cosy living room with the shabby carpets and working fireplace, and the large pale lemon coloured bedroom with the huge windows filling the space with light. Then she turned to Panda who was watching her anxiously. "I love it," she said and Panda hugged her tightly.

"We'll stay up late every night, talking about boys, it'll be whizzer!"

"Maybe Panda…probably not though."

**.**

**.**

After she moved in, Emily explored her new neighbourhood. It felt a bit odd, being away from everything she'd been used to, but in a way that was one of the drawcards. She never had to walk past her old work, Tony's apartment would be all his and perhaps most importantly, she'd never accidentally bump into Naomi or Alicia on her way out to the shops. _It's better this way_, she told herself. _She's moved on. She's moved backwards, but she's moved on. _She tried not to think about it more than she could help it, but every single fucking night without fail she'd lie awake for a while, wondering how Naomi was, what she was doing, what her paintings looked like now and whether she was happy. _I want her to be happy,_ she thought._ No...I don't. I want her to be fucking miserable because she __acted like she couldn't live without me and then replaced me with that cold-blooded bitch._

_She said she was in love with me. She SHOWED me she was in love with me. And now what? She's settling? Or maybe she really does fall in and out of love that quickly. _Okay so it fucking hurt. She could admit that now. But as the weeks went by, instead of diminishing as she'd hoped, the pain only seemed to increase. _I miss her. I miss her so much it's killing me._Panda was hilarious, Effy had forgiven her though they never talked about Tony and even Katie seemed to want to spend time with her, though after the first time she'd flat out refused to come over to Emily's new house ever again. But none of it made up for the loss of Naomi. _I miss her friendship. I miss laughing with her. I miss her eyes on my face. _Fine, fuck it. _And I miss the way her lips felt against mine. I miss the shape of her body in my hands. I wish-_

She couldn't wish. Being alone was okay. More than okay…sometimes Emily woke up smiling just knowing she was in her own bedroom, in her own life, with her own day ahead of her. She never once played twister, but she loved stretching out by the fireplace laughing at Panda's long winded monologues and the gigantic pink fluffy socks she wore with every outfit as winter approached full steam ahead. She took a job, quite randomly, at their local coffee shop & book store combined, working behind the counter. It was as easy and brainless as accounting had been, but unlike the desk job, she wore whatever she liked and spent her day chatting to strangers, though usually about the weather and her mind was completely free to wander into her dreams.

_Mexico, maybe_, she thought and recommenced her Spanish classes just incase. Her plans changed daily…_scuba diving off the Great Barrier Reef. No…fucking someone beautiful, on every beach in India. Wait…I'll move back to London and go back to university. _In a way dreaming about it was half the fun. She couldn't quite bring herself to book anything though. Not while everything was still so up in the air. It was nice enough just knowing she had the choice. That she could wake up at any moment and just _go. It's a nice option, _she thought. _But I just…don't want to leave yet. _She told herself it was because she was being sensible...why run off when things were finally stabilising again? But she never quite admitted the real reason, or she tried not to. Emily Fitch was done being a masochist thank you very much. Until -

"What's the coffee like here then?" Her eyes snapped up to the owner of the voice. Naomi was blushing, but her eyes were slightly mischievous. Emily's own cheeks flushed as she surveyed the woman standing in front of her. Somewhere inside her brain a synapse was misfiring. It had to be, because the only thought she managed was on loop: _oh god oh god oh god oh god. _She blinked and the rest of her brain leapt into gear. _Beautiful, she's so fucking beautiful, fucking kiss her you dickhead._

"G-great. It's great," she mumbled. "What are you doing here?" she bit her lip. Naomi looked skyward then glanced off to her left.

"Coffee with Mum," she winced slightly as Gina waved excitedly from one of the tables. "I, um, I can make it a takeaway coffee instead if you'd prefer." She watched Emily closely for her response. Emily flinched under her surveillance.

"No, it's fine, really," she lied. Naomi ordered for them and Emily passed the order to the bored teenage boy manning the coffee machine and took Naomi's cash. She tried unsuccessfully to repress the shiver that passed through her as Naomi's fingers brushed hers. She only hoped Naomi wasn't aware of the effect she was having, but the girl would have had to be fucking blind to miss the raging blush and confused eye contact she kept dropping.

"So…not an accountant anymore then?" asked the blonde, smiling curiously at her. Emily smirked suddenly.

"Not an accountant," she began to tick off on her fingers. "Not living in an ugly apartment, not with a boyfriend and not so straight," the words were all out her mouth before she could stop them. _Ah fuck it. _"I guess I have you to thank for most of that," she met her eyes. Naomi was smiling broadly, goofily really to be honest and she reached out and lay her hand on top of Emily's, just for a second. Heat raced through her. _Don't read into it you fool._

"I'm glad," Naomi said. "On all counts. Don't give me the credit though; whatever you do now you'll be amazing."

"I'm thinking of going to Mexico," she said. Naomi's expression didn't waver, but her gaze dropped as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Sounds great," she said, looking relieved as the two coffees were placed in front of her. "But you'll say goodbye…Ems, won't you, before you go?"

"Yeah," replied Emily suddenly feeling indescribably sad. "Sure."

"Okay," Naomi let out a long breath. "I'm going to-"

"Right."

Naomi went over and sat with her mother and Emily quickly turned her back, trying to hide the panic on her face. _Breathe. How long can it take for two women to __drink a coffee? She'll be gone in a minute. _She began to rearrange things on the shelves at random until another customer cleared their throat to get her attention. When she turned to serve them Gina was clearly in the midst of a long spiel and her coffee lay barely touched in front of her. _Fuck - _Naomi was looking at her. Her eyes snapped back to the customer and when she looked back again Naomi was tracing patterns in the foam with her teaspoon. Emily's eyes zeroed in on Naomi's long slender fingers, smiling slightly at the trace of red paint she saw there. Her delicate wrist bones were revealed as the end of her sweater sleeve slid down her arm. _Sex, _thought Emily. _I've had sex with that girl. Sex and yet we've never held hands. Never kissed her on a street corner. Never felt her arms around my waist in a crowded room. Never woken up on a Saturday morning to have a lazy day in bed, laughing and fucking and sleeping in each other's arms._

Naomi's eyes flicked up to meet hers again and Emily couldn't look away. _That's right __you fucking fickle, impatient, shallow bitch…maybe we could have been something - but you didn't wait for me. How could you not wait for me? _Naomi flinched slightly at the ferocity of her stare. Emily noticed Gina shoot her daughter an exasperated look and gesture impatiently at her. Naomi regressed to a sulky fourteen year old right there at the table and rolled her eyes at her mother. But she got up as prompted and came back over to her. Emily started wiping the counter redundantly trying to look uncaring.

"Ems,"

"Oh! Naomi. Yes?"

"Would you have coffee with me sometime? I mean…not like I'm having coffee with you now. And not in your workplace or anything of course, but-" Emily interrupted her nervous rambling.

"I don't think that's a good idea," she said quickly. Naomi looked down.

"Oh. Okay then," she said lightly, frowning at her shoes. "That's fine," she started to turn away.

"Naomi…" the blonde paused and Emily ached at the look in her eyes, before quickly steeling herself against it. _We're not going to do this again for fuck's sake. God Naomi, does having a partner mean that little to you? _"I hope…" she tried. "I'm sorry about- I want you to be happy, you know?" Naomi nodded slowly.

"Right. Yeah, well I am. You too," she shrugged.

"Alicia's a lucky lady," she managed to sound nonchalant. Naomi looked surprised. _Yeah __I found you out, didn't she tell you?_

"Um right. She, er, was I guess," she shook her head slowly. "Goodbye Ems," she looked over towards her mother who was already standing and looking concerned.

"Bye," she replied faintly. _Well that went brilliantly. _The two women disappeared out the door and Emily turned with a heavy heart and went back to her life. Outside the window it had started to snow.


	23. Chapter 22

Naomi could tell that her mother wanted to say more, but she only had twenty minutes before she was meeting up with Alicia and all she really wanted right now, was to be alone. Possibly alone in bed with the duvet over her head, but since she knew that if she caved into that she might not get up again, she chose a walk in the snow instead. She said goodbye to Gina, endured her hug and turned to go.

There was something about snow that always made her indescribably sad. Maybe it was all the fake imagery associated with it - the perfect Christmas with the whole happy family in their matching knitted sweaters, the romantic couple kissing with big soft feathery snowflakes drifting around them, or the excited children building snowmen and having snowball fights that never ever hurt. Or maybe it was because of the terrible beauty of the world under snow. Soon Bristol would no longer be grubby but pristine as a fairy tale. A fat faced, angry, middle aged man shoved past her on the path, his hat and coat sprinkled with little stars of snow; even he looked prettier than he had any right to.

So maybe, when it came down to it, the snow was only sad to anyone who was alone in it.

_No snow in Mexico _her brain chanted at her. Joke was on her. When she'd seen exactly who the cute girl behind the counter was she'd felt two things. One - _this isn't how it goes; I was waiting for YOU to walk back into MY life. _And two - _fuck it, this must be fate. _She rolled her eyes at herself. _Right, sure fate. That's why I'm walking alone in the snow and Emily's leaving without looking back._

For those few seconds between Emily's startled eyes meeting hers and fucking _Mexico_, she'd been giddy with hope. Emily's violent blush, the tiny looks she'd kept stealing, and the _hey everyone, I'm not straight, _she'd thrown in so breezily - as if there'd been no great struggle or question about it at all, let alone months of agony caused to herself or anyone else. _You and me, _Naomi had thought. _It could be so simple. _And then…Mexico_. _Not just Mexico, but a cheerful - _hey thanks for letting me work myself out on your body - great shag, totally cleared everything up for me. I'm off to repeat the experience with as many gorgeous Latina women as I can, so please, have a nice life. _Naomi kicked the park bench and kept walking. _Well fuck you too Emily Fitch._

She pushed open the door to the restaurant, took off her hat and shook snow out of the ends of her hair. She looked up and caught the look in Alicia's eyes as she did so. _At least someone fucking wants me. _She walked over and kissed Alicia's cheek in greeting and sat down to order. Halfway through lunch Alicia sighed and put down her fork. "Naomi. What's wrong with you? You're on another planet again." Naomi frowned, toying with her food.

"Nothing's wrong. Just bumped into Emily earlier is all," _and she ripped my heart out for the seventeenth time, but other than that I'm super, thanks for asking. _Alicia instantly looked tense. Naomi felt bad all over again; she knew Alicia was the last person she should be talking to about Emily. Christ, something about Alicia really brought out the worst in her sometimes. _When I'm with you, _she thought, _I'm all the worst parts of me. Selfish, defiant, childish and occasionally cruel._

"Didn't go too well I take it?" Alicia surprised her by asking gently.

"No. She's going to Mexico apparently."

"Oh Naomi…" Alicia reached out and covered her hand across the table. "I'm so sorry. It's only to be expected I guess. She's just come out of a major relationship to discover who she is and now she wants to be free. You can hardly blame the girl." Fuck she hated when Alicia was right. _Is that who I'd be to Emily? Just another link in the chain that __traps her? Does love always have to be that way?_

She watched Alicia take a large sip of her wine and start to eat again, her green eyes as clear and determined as ever. _Maybe it did. Maybe love is always a kind of cage. _She remembered the night of the surprise party Alicia had thrown her…out of love, nothing but love. And how she'd wanted to scream and throw things and run away with Emily instead, anything to escape._But if Emily was my girlfriend, if Emily was the one who expected me home every night, who filled me up with guilt if I so much as looked at a cute girl in the laundromat…would she become my prison as well?_

Out of spite she decided her annoyingly philosophical brain was right. _It's a trap. Thank god she's leaving, because it's all a big fucking trap. _But when she eventually realised that five whole minutes of Alicia's conversation had gone by without her noticing as she drifted off into a daydream of what being permanently ensnared in an Emily Fitch trap would be like, she suddenly knew what it was she had to do. She stood up.

"Al, sorry, I'll talk to you tomorrow - there's something I-" she turned and fled, struggling with her hat and coat as she strode determinedly through the snow.

She'd paused outside the cafe, peering in to see the redhead at work behind the glass - even getting as far as putting her hand on the door handle, before she changed her mind and fled again. She'd fucking _tried _words already. She'd tried lips and fingers and arms and chasing her to bloody London and back. Something was misfiring somewhere. _She doesn't get it. She still doesn't get it. _She was pretty convinced that Emily wasn't actually stupid…_she's just using the wrong part of her brain. _She kept walking, lost in thought. Suddenly the whole of the last four months felt like one long confused conversation, in which she and Emily had only been able to communicate anything real maybe three or four times. _We get closer and closer and our words keep taking us further apart. She opens her mouth and I just don't get her anymore. _Like this morning for example. What the fuck was that Alicia comment all about? Then she spluttered as the next thought hit her. _Shitting jesus goddamn christ._

She changed direction again, nearly falling over a little old lady on a mobility scooter in her haste. There was exactly one last way left for her to reach Emily Fitch.

.


	24. Chapter 23

It was Emily's job to close the cafe that day. As the snow started to pile up in little drifts along the footpath outside, she sped up her movements, wanting to get home before things got too treacherous. She lifted chairs onto tables and was doing a fairly brisk job of sweeping up when she noticed the large brown paper package propped up against the wall nearest the door. _Someone must have left it behind during their shopping _she thought at first. She picked up the parcel to put it safely out the way until morning and caught sight of the name 'Emily Fitch' scrawled in large letters across one end of it. _Okay…weird. _She turned it around in her hands, a couple of times, while looking out the window at the street, feeling slightly creepy as she wondered if she was being watched. That would be fairly unlikely she decided, judging by the increasingly heavy snow she could see whirling down outside. Curiosity picked at her, so she put the broom away, pulled on her coat and gloves, and grabbed the parcel on her way out the door.

It was only two streets away but Emily struggled getting home. The package was large and awkward and coupled with the growing slush under her feet, walking was quite a challenge. Panda wasn't home yet and the house was still and dark without her presence. Emily turned on lights and switched on the heating as she walked through the frigid rooms. She got changed out of her cold damp jeans and hopped straight into bed to warm up, while the radiators began slowly to ping. Her fingers were numb and she struggled as she tried to free the package of all the brown paper and cardboard someone had zealously wrapped around the item.

She pulled the last of the packaging free, realising quickly it was a painting. Her heart squeezed tightly as she turned the canvas over and recognised it instantly from her first trip to Naomi's studio. _Desire. _She stared at the colours for a long time, losing herself in the shapes of it, even reaching out to trace her fingers over the paint - though she knew you weren't supposed to do that to expensive artworks. Only then did she notice the small piece of white card that had fallen out with the wrapping. _It was always you, _the card read. Tears blurred her eyes suddenly, so she had to blink hard when she turned the card over to read what was written on the other side. _And I'm not with Alicia you pillock._

Emily spluttered, then fell back against the pillows, squeezing her eyes tightly closed as her brain tried to process everything. Her chest was so tight it made breathing difficult. _It's ME… …she still wants me. After everything. Naomi fucking Campbell. Shit shit shit shit… _She remembered the only other time she'd seen this canvas. The paint was still wet and Naomi's discomfort had been almost tangible as Emily had discovered it. _She wanted me from the beginning. _A slow shocked smile spread across her features. _And I've been wanting her right back. _She wanted to laugh. After everything they'd been through, it turned out to be astoundingly simple.

She sat up and swung her legs out of bed. Then she swung them back in again, hunching them up to her chest. _She really is…in love with me then, _she realised with another shock, the familiar fear and euphoria running through her as she wondered at the immensity of the thought. _So this will never be slow. This will never be casual, this will never be just dating. _She lay back against the pillows once more and tried to breathe slowly. _From Katie to Tony to Naomi? When do I get to just be Emily?_

Getting back out of bed and going over to her desk she rifled through her drawers and pulled out her new notebook and a pen, then leapt quickly back into bed, her feet already starting to feel numb. Looking at the blank pages for a long time, she slowly began to write. First there was a list. Then there was a plan. And then there were just _feelings. _Feelings that belonged to nobody but Emily Fitch. Panda came home and greeted her, then brought her in a big bowl of soup to eat while she wrote and wrote and wrote. When she finally finished it was the middle of the night. She was fucking exhausted, but she knew exactly what she wanted and what she was going to do. Unclamping her cold fingers from around the pen, she tossed the notebook onto the floor and pulled the covers up over her head. As she curled tightly into the nest she'd made in her blankets, for the first night ever she allowed herself to give into it completely - letting the girl she wanted fill all of her thoughts unreservedly as she drifted into sleep. _Her rosy lips, _she thought, _her hard nipples, her soft thighs…_

.

.

It was still dark when she woke up, but for once her brain didn't go through it's usual start up routine of _where am I? What's happening? Who am I today? _The second she opened her eyes, her first thoughts were exactly the same as the dreams she'd been having. _Naomi. _She looked at the time. 6:26 a.m. Still way too early. She lay back again, but lasted only for a few seconds. _Fuck it. _She shivered as she showered and dressed.

Outside there was a touch of pink creeping up the sky to the east and the still glowing streetlights lit up the white scene around her. The snow had stopped and she could hear the sound of the gritters moving from street to street. The snow wasn't too icy but she proceeded cautiously anyway enjoying the mostly deserted streets. It was Friday morning and the occasional commuter drove past her, but she wondered maybe if everyone else was taking a snow day. She pulled her beanie further down over her ears, but began to warm up a little as she walked through town. She walked around the edge of the mostly white park and down her old street past Tony's apartment. She found herself slowing dramatically as she neared the laneway to Naomi's house. She paused at the end of it, swallowing several times as the combination of nerves and anticipation caused her heart to pound loudly in her ears. Finally, she marched down the side street and without giving herself time to change her mind, she knocked on Naomi's door.

No one answered. She banged harder, before pressing the doorbell. Naomi wasn't exactly an early riser. "Naomi?" she called up, before backing out into the lane and peering up at the windows. Everything was dark. _Asleep? Or not home? Maybe she's staying at __Gina's? Shit, maybe she's gone somewhere…maybe the painting was some kind of goodbye and I've fucking missed her, maybe …oh shut up. For fuck's sake, answer! _She pressed the doorbell once more. _Fuck. _The snow had started again and her toes were numb in her boots. She looked around for something to throw up at Naomi's bedroom window, but the snow had covered everything. She tried a couple of snowballs, but they only smooshed quietly against the glass. "Naomi!" she shouted louder this time. _Lazy shit. _She tried her phone but it was switched off. _Christ._

Finally she turned and walked slowly back down the street, disappointment running through her veins like ice, causing all of her doubts to pile up again. _Maybe it was a sign. Maybe - _she'd gotten as far as the park when suddenly she turned and marched back again. She walked straight past Naomi's front door and made her way down the lane.

Finding the narrow iron ladder at the back of the brick wall, she clung carefully to it with her gloved hands as she climbed. Fuck it was slippery. She took a full three minutes climbing the thing, before carefully placing one foot in front of the other as she walked along the ledge, the adrenaline racing through her as she finally gripped onto the snow covered fire escape. Another desperately careful climb followed, her foot slipping once, leaving her dangling for one frantic moment. Emily was fucking glad of her rock climbing induced upper body strength as she clung there for a second before managing to right herself. She reached the top and peered into the studio. No lights, no signs of life.

She tugged and jerked at the window catch until to her immense relief it opened. She climbed down into the studio feeling ridiculously pleased with herself, stomping her feet slightly to get rid of the snow. She looked around her, as the grey light from the snowy dawn outside came in through the large windows. The studio was full again, with more huge canvases dominating the room. She paused a second but she immediately felt like looking at them wasn't exactly her place. _As if breaking into her house isn't enough of an invasion. _She couldn't help but grin to herself though as she closed the door to the studio and started down the stairs. _An awful lot of red in there._

She'd reached all the way to the bottom of the stairs before the reality of what she was about to do hit her in the chest. This wasn't at all like her. _This is all kinds of fucking crazy in fact. _It wasn't too late to sneak back out of course. Suddenly she remembered Alicia. O_h fuck, what if she's still staying here? _She'd certainly looked at home that morning she'd answered the door in one of those silky robes Emily had had no idea women outside of Hollywood movies actually wore. Naomi had said they weren't together, but this had been Alicia's home once too…_what if she's still staying in the fucking bedroom? _She looked around the big room for clues. It was clean finally, that much was immediately obvious. The green wall had been completed - _must have got a professional in _she smirked, _cos it looks pretty tidy. _There were a few dishes on the benches but it wasn't the bomb site she'd last seen. Naomi's tatty armchairs and couches still took pride of place throughout the ex-gallery though the sleeker more modern pieces of furniture were still there too, just covered with rugs and cushions.

She crossed the room slowly and paused at the bedroom door. _Knock…I should knock. _Her fear of the potential Alicia dragon within was what caused her to silently crack the door open and peer into the room instead. Her heart banged loudly against her chest as she surveyed the the bed. One solitary sleeping blonde. She stepped in and closed the door behind her, leaning against it, soaking up the sight in front of her. No one else but Naomi. Despite Emily's racket, the soft movement of the covers around her body spoke of nothing but sleep. _Christ. _Emily had expected to have been caught breaking and entering by now so she took a moment trying to decide on her next move. Finally she smiled and for exactly the third time in her life, she simply followed the craving of her body.

She dumped her wet jacket and pulled off her boots. Off came her jeans, her two pairs of socks and both sweaters. Trembling in the cold air in her tshirt and knickers, she finally climbed into bed beside Naomi. The cool sheets made her shivering worse and she moved instinctively closer to the warm sleeping body. _Jesus christ what does it take to __wake this woman?_"Naomi," she murmured, not wanting to scare the living shit out of her more than she was about to. "Naoms," Gently she put her hand on the blonde's shoulder. The shoulder flinched at the ice cold touch and Naomi rolled over towards her.

"Jesus christ Ems," she grumbled sleepily, "Your hands are fucking freezing." Then her eyes flew wide open and she lifted her head, blinking rapidly and staring at her like she was a ghost. "What the _fuck _Emily-" she started, but her words were cut off as Emily slid her frozen fingers around the back of her warm neck and pulled her in to kiss her mouth. Her lips were so warm and soft that Emily felt herself die a little bit as Naomi's mouth fell open and kissed her back hard. The blonde began shivering as much as Emily was, as she pulled her cold body tightly against her, her warm hands grabbing at her waist. Then she pulled back, staring and reached up to tuck a strand of Emily's hair tentatively back behind her ear, her startled eyes drinking in her face, clearly trying to ascertain if she was still dreaming. Emily ran her icy hands over her body, assuring her that she wasn't.

"Fucking hell Naomi, you're really hard to wake up," she smirked at the blonde's gasping response to her cold touch, unable to stop herself leaning in to kiss her again. And again. _Christ she's beautiful…and god she's warm. No…don't talk, jesus…_

"Did you not think to maybe try the doorbell?" Naomi asked incredulously as she recovered herself, pushing Emily onto her back and pinning her down under her own heated body. Emily found herself losing her ability to think clearly as she ran her hands down the back of Naomi's tshirt to clutch at her skin. _So soft. Fuck...I just want to touch her everywhere at once._

"I did," she defended herself, reaching back up to trace Naomi's face with her fingers. "You didn't answer me," she kissed her again. "And I couldn't leave," she explained, tilting her head slightly to kiss Naomi's throat, revelling in the shaky gasp she invoked. "Because it was urgent."

"Urgent," Naomi breathed, letting her hand run from Emily's shoulder, slowly down over her breast and stomach to the bottom of her tshirt, running her hand underneath the cotton to stroke up over her bare ribs. She was almost frowning down at Emily beneath her, the expression on her face an incredibly satisfying combination of lust and disbelief.

"Fuck yes, urgent," Emily squirmed, kissing her harder. "I came to tell you something." She pressed her thigh firmly up between Naomi's and reached out to pull the other woman's tshirt over her head. Then she pushed her off and over, gazing down at the semi- naked blonde lying slightly wide-eyed beneath her, before kissing her gently as she finally realised that she too, was breakable. And then, slowly, she began to tell her.


	25. Chapter 24

"You look like the biggest dork right now," Emily informed her sweetly, one eyebrow raised as she ran her eyes deliberately over Naomi from head to toe.

"Charming," Naomi returned, wobbling dangerously as she tried to push the bedroom door shut behind her with one foot, both her hands being full. "Just what every girl wants to hear when she's in the middle of a grand romantic gesture," she narrowed her eyes at the redhead reclining comfortably against the pillows in her bed, happy to lie back and watch as Naomi struggled with her load. Approaching the bed she unloaded the breakfast she'd prepared, along with two oversized mugs of steaming tea, onto the bedside table.

"Cereal?" Emily's eyebrows climbed higher. "That's your idea of a grand romantic gesture?" Naomi smirked at her, taking a moment for approximately the five hundredth time in the last two hours, to enjoy the sight of Emily Fitch lazing around in her bed like she belonged there. _Oh and naked - I forgot naked. Naked and in my bed…and she definitely belongs there._

"Better get used to it now, Fitch," she teased her, moving around to the other side of the bed, hastily removing the items of her outfit that had been making Emily laugh at her ever since starvation had driven her out into the cold in the first place. She kept the vest and knickers, but shed the ski jacket and woollen socks, raising her eyebrows as she did so and glaring at Emily, daring her to mock any further. Crawling under the covers she pulled her straight back into another long kiss, partly to stop her from speaking anymore but mostly just because of the fact that even though she'd already ran her hands over every inch of Emily's body countless times that morning, she still couldn't quite believe she was really there. Emily's fingers stroked the back of her neck, pulling her in closer to deepen the kiss.

"Miss me then did you?" Naomi pulled back.

"No," she replied, reaching up to kiss her again. "Fuck off and let me enjoy my _amazing _romantic breakfast," she spoke her words millimetres from Naomi's lips, brushing her own deliberately against them, so agonisingly gently that her breath caught as she let Emily tease her with a series of tiny faint kisses that seemed to hold the promise of so much more.

"Cereal will get cold Ems," she told her, as Emily's hands began to wander, stroking down her back and sliding straight under the waistband of her pants.

"It's meant to be cold," she sounded surprised at Naomi's stupidity, though it didn't seem to stop her from wanting to press her naked body deliciously closer against her.

"Guess that would be the romantic gesture then," Naomi said smugly as she pulled her vest off over her head and began to kiss hungrily down Emily's neck, the redhead's disbelieving snort of laughter choked off suddenly as Naomi firmly pulled her body beneath her. _Oh christ…so much soft warm skin_… The inside of Emily's arms felt like silk as they grazed against her on the way to settling around her body, softly sliding up against her again as she reached out to tuck back the curtain of blonde hair spilling down around them. Naomi paused to look back down into the redhead's eyes, feeling a sudden attack of shyness as she did so. _Fucking christ, it's Emily, _she thought for the thousandth time. Emily smiled up at her. Her fingers stayed tangled in her hair and her dark eyes glowed with want.

"Don't stop," she murmured, biting her lip, and every single one of Naomi's nerve endings stood to attention at her words. She kissed her hungrily again, groaning at the sensation of Emily's tongue sliding against her own. Her hand was already stroking down to wander over Emily's body, grazing against one hard nipple and then the other, feeling herself melt as Emily's hips began to move unconsciously at her touch, as if already anticipating the approaching pleasure. For a second her brain went into overdrive, too overwhelmed by the sensations and emotions the whole fucking situation was inducing in her that she almost panicked. She buried her face in Emily's neck, inhaling her smell, _god I love her smell, _and her brain calmed. Opening her mouth she moved down, tasting the salt of her skin and allowing herself to be guided purely by her ever increasing want and her new life's purpose of making Emily Fitch gasp for every breath.

In the short couple of hours since Emily's cold hands had pulled her more widely awake than she'd ever been in her life, she'd learned more about the redhead than she'd managed in months of trying to know her. She knew now, for example, that kisses along Emily's ribcage never failed to make her shiver. Or that if she let things get too heated and teased her too long then Emily's kisses turned to biting…her throat and shoulder now bearing the proof of that small danger. She quickly discovered that their first time together had been an anomaly, in that Emily was almost never silent in bed; instead she'd murmur tiny phrases that made Naomi almost blind with lust. _Fuck, I want you…_she'd whisper, her lips against her earlobe. _You taste amazing_, her voice would come in a low moan as she paused between long slow strokes of her tongue. She'd pull back from a kiss to look hungrily in her eyes and say, _I want your fingers inside me._Naomi was pretty sure there wasn't a request in the world she'd have the power to say no to, if it came wrapped in Emily's sex soaked voice. _Better make good and sure she never realises that, _she thought wryly, always hesitating just long enough before she complied that she'd first get to enjoy the spark of frustration that flashed in Emily's eyes whenever she made her wait.

She didn't make her wait this time though, instead pouring everything she had into driving Emily into a frenzy before throwing one of her own lines in there… _"I want to feel you come,"_she whispered and a huge rush ran through her as Emily gasped shakily, arching her back and giving her exactly what she wanted. Despite Naomi's efficiency at turning Emily into a breathless wreck beneath her, it was a while before either of them remembered anything about breakfast.

It wasn't until they were semi-upright, leaning against the pillows and into each other, sipping at their lukewarm tea that they attempted anything like a conversation. _A verbal one at least_, Naomi smiled. Emily was tracing patterns on Naomi's thigh under the covers with her spare hand, when her eyes flicked up to Naomi's face and out of the blue she started to laugh.

"Yes?" Naomi raised her eyebrows, wondering whether or not to be offended.

"Nothing," Emily hid her mouth with her mug of tea. "Just…it's strange, you know?"

"Strange how?" demanded Naomi, not sure she liked the way this was going.

"It's _you,_" Emily tried to explain. "I mean…we've been _friends _and now…" her voice trailed off, "…we're naked. And we've just spent the whole morning making love." Naomi shivered at how much hearing the word _love _affected her, dropped softly that way from Emily's lips. She finished her tea and putting her cup aside, she turned slightly to drop a kiss onto Emily's bare shoulder, before resting her head there, breathing her in.

"We were never really just friends though, Ems," she argued. "I always wanted this with you. I don't think I could ever look at you without imagining this…maybe you were in a different place but not me." Emily sipped her tea again and Naomi couldn't catch her expression. Her heart was beating rapidly. _I still don't know exactly what this means to her, _Naomi tried to remind herself of that fact despite the hint of fear it gave her. _I know she wants me and she knows how I feel …and she's here, but… _Naomi had never felt so naked in her life.

"Right from the beginning?" Emily asked, with what sounded like a lingering hint of disbelief in her voice. Naomi couldn't help her grin at that one.

"Emily…my first thought when I met you was that you had a fucking fantastic arse," her eyes glazed slightly at the memory.

"Well. You're only human," smirked Emily, turning to jab her in the ribs.

"My second thought was that you were unbelievably beautiful," she continued, catching her hand. "And my third thought was that I should stop talking to you right away since all I wanted to do was thrust you up against the machines and do unspeakable things to your body," her lips twitched, _though not as unspeakable as the things I'm going to do with __you all afternoon _she decided. The salacious look on her face must have been obvious since Emily's cheeks turned pink and she abandoned the rest of her tea to pull her down in the bed again.

"Beautiful," she said softly instead. "You thought that?"

"Fucking hell yes," she traced her fingers over Emily's face, amused that this, of all things, was the statement of the morning that made Emily blush the most. "How the fuck could you not notice Ems? Whenever you're in the room I can't see anything else. It's why Alicia dumped me," she admitted. Emily looked startled and then adorably guilty.

"Oh," was all she said. She propped herself up on her elbow, facing her but seemingly torn between examining her fingernails and looking her in the eye. "I never knew…Naoms," she told her. "I guess, maybe, I've always been so careful not to take things the wrong way…not read into it and fuck things up, like I did with Effy. I didn't ever imagine you'd feel…I mean christ, not with someone like Alicia around," she frowned.

"Well yeah, apparently there's no accounting for taste sometimes…" Naomi tried to shift the seriousness of the conversation. Emily reached out to flick her forehead with her fingers, but Naomi caught hold of them and kissed them instead, realising that that exact urge was the reason why Emily's little violent streak had always made her blush. Emily smiled, keeping her fingers intertwined with Naomi's. Then she frowned again.

"But you didn't stop being around me…you acted like my friend, even though it wasn't what you wanted. Why did even you bother? I mean…Alicia…and Tony…and-"

"That pesky straight habit you kept clinging to?" Naomi finished for her, her eyebrows raised. "I decided being your friend and at least getting to be around you was worth it. I tried Ems, but," _oh fuck, big breath, _"…you know how I feel about you," she swallowed hard. _You've already told her you idiot. Man up. _She couldn't say the words again though. _Maybe if we pretend I never mentioned it, she won't be completely terrified by what she's getting into. _Her eyelashes fluttered upward again, just as Emily's lips brushed hers, (_kissing me for the words I can't say, or kissing them away?) _and she never got to make out Emily's expression. Her unspoken words hung heavily in the air, but the kiss was long and slow and tender and Naomi's wild heartbeat eventually calmed. The message felt clear. _Even if she's scared by it, she's not running._

"When did you start? Knowing, I mean?" Naomi couldn't help her curiosity. _At exactly which moment could I have thrown you on the bed and gotten away with it? _Emily tensed slightly and pulled herself slowly away to sit up. Naomi moved up to sit beside her, trying to erase her own vulnerability.

"I don't know," she said softly. "That day we ended up sleeping together though… I came over to your house that afternoon knowing perfectly well what was going to happen." Naomi's jaw dropped in shock. "I mean, I wasn't sure _how _it would happen or how you'd react or anything, but I knew without a doubt that I'd wind up kissing you. It's why I was trying to avoid you," she admitted. Naomi's mouth opened, then closed again. _Little fucking swindler, _she thought as all that harmless flirting suddenly revealed itself to be full of deadly intent. Emily laughed at her indignant expression. "And I definitely wondered," she continued, "…if you kissed me back, exactly how strongly I'd end up reacting."

"Pretty fucking strongly," Naomi reflected dreamily, tracing her hand slowly along the inside of Emily's thigh while she gazed off into mid-air remembering.

"Yes, well…" Emily seemed to be in the same place. She shivered under her touch. "So does that answer your question?" she asked primly after a moment. _Actually no, _thought Naomi, jerked back from her reverie, realising despite everything Emily had given her, she'd been digging for more. Something more along the lines of _I've been desperately in love with you all my life, it just took me forever to find you and admit it. _She held herself in check though, only realising she'd been silent when Emily leaned across and traced her fingers over her jaw, bringing her eyes back to her face. Naomi struggled for control, only able to meet her eyes briefly, before gazing down feeling strangely bereft. Emily seemed to be struggling with something too. She took a deep breath.

"Naomi…right from the start I knew one thing about you that all the denial in the world couldn't fucking hide. And that was that no matter what, I just didn't want to be without you." Emily bit her lip and Naomi felt her chest squeeze tight. "Despite everything I tried, that just never went away," her voice cracked slightly. "When I'm with you, I feel like a better person," she traced her fingers over Naomi's. "I feel happier, less…lonely." Naomi looked up to see Emily's eyes suddenly begging her for something. "It's not as simple as that is it? Being with someone?"

Naomi thought of traps and chains, of a six year passionless relationship, of tense dinner parties, unwanted surprises and flights to Mexico. "Isn't it?" she asked anyway. _Because when it comes to wanting you, I think it's as simple as breathing._

"No. I mean...I don't know. I mean, I don't think so…" Emily struggled. "I mean…" the tears that had been gathering in her eyes threatened to spill as she gazed at Naomi, asking for the chance to be allowed to catch up. "Can't we just sit like this? For a bit?"

Naomi stayed still, for a long time, caught between two places. The place where she would do anything just to keep Emily Fitch in her life and in her arms, and the place where she felt so utterly confused at Emily's inability just to _know _the way she herself did. _I know I'm in love with her the way I know when I'm thirsty, or the way I know that to keep walking after I lift this foot, I have to lift the other. How can she not know? _She looked into Emily's eyes, at the tears shining there, at the worry, the confusion and the way they cried out for her not to give up on her just yet. That's when she knew that she'd have to have enough faith for the both of them. _I know, _she thought fiercely. _I know who we are. You just focus on breathing Emily Fitch and I'll still be here when you arrive._

"Yeah," was all she said in the end. "We can. For a bit"

**.**

**.**

Once upon a time there had been lots of things she'd planned to do with that day…pick the colour scheme to repaint her bedroom, meet Alicia for lunch to go over the final details of her fucking damage control plan, not to mention spend hours in her studio channelling her misery over Emily into something that would help her survive. However, as it turned out there was not a single plan on that agenda she felt even a hint of regret over tossing aside as she pulled Emily back down into the sheets with her instead. _Shit, _she rolled over and rummaged for her phone beside the bed and sent off a quick text to Alicia, managing only _[Sorry Al. Busy, something came up] _before the sensation of Emily's body pressing up against her back and the open mouthed kisses being dropped along her neck and shoulder made her decide hazily _fuck it, that'll do _and she pressed 'send', dropping the phone and turning in Emily's arms. _Oh jesus_, even the voice in her head came out in a groan, as Emily continued to kiss her way down her body, slowly and torturously claiming every inch with her lips. _This girl is going to be the death of me… _though if she had to pick a way to die then this would definitely be it.

Lunchtime came and went unnoticed and eventually Emily fell asleep in her arms, leaving Naomi to smirk smugly at the blissful expression on the redhead's peaceful face. Her own eyelids were getting heavy when the thought struck her. _Fuck…I have to tell her about what happened in fucking London… _she hated the idea of what Emily might think of her when she knew. She considered trying to hide it, just for a second, but instantly the idea of lying to Emily felt unnaturally poisonous. _I'll tell her when she wakes up, _she decided and with her arms wrapped around the body of the woman beside her, she fell into her own desperately happy dreams.

"Oh! Well _this _is just fucking great," the harsh voice woke them both with a start. Naomi had no idea how long they'd slept, but she knew two things for sure: Alicia was standing in the bedroom doorway and she looked _pissed. _"Little stopover on your way to Mexico is it?" she demanded as Emily rubbed her eyes and blinked. "_This _is what you blow off our date for? Christ Naomi, sometimes you can be so fucking stupid I don't know how you manage to function!"

Naomi flinched, but it was Emily who spoke, propping herself up languidly in the sheets and looking Alicia in the eye with what looked remarkably like sympathy.

"Good morning Alicia," she greeted her levelly as if perfectly unaware it was at least three in the afternoon. "That's my fault I'm afraid. I'm so sorry for distracting Naomi from your business meeting," she spoke pleasantly but the intent of her phrasing wasn't lost on anyone. "You might want to rethink your choice of words though, since I can definitely assure you that Naomi is functioning perfectly well at present." _Oh christ…twenty-five years of being Katie Fitch's other half is good for something. _She mentally stepped aside as the glass began to fly.

"Well," Alicia laughed coldly. "Aren't you just the most precious little thing there ever was?" Naomi stiffened, opening her mouth to interject when Alicia switched her angry gaze back to her instead. "So, have you told her everything yet Naomi? Fit that into your deep and meaningful discussion you've obviously spent all morning engaged in? Told your new girlfriend about how you're a fake and a fucking _criminal_? How'd she take that then?" she smiled, looking satisfied at the two very different expressions she'd managed to induce on the faces before her, before stalking over to the window seat and settling in to watch the show.

.


	26. Chapter 25

Emily felt Naomi freeze rigidly beside her. She turned to examine her face; Naomi looked like a rabbit in the headlights, caught between Alicia's accusation and her own guilty panic. Emily's stomach began to churn. _Right then. _She sat up, clutching the blankets around her chest and smiled pleasantly at the woman in the window seat.

"Alicia," she began. "I don't know if you noticed but we're both naked. And kind of in the middle of something. I know you used to live here and everything, but personally I'm finding your presence a little bit inappropriate at the moment." She felt Naomi grab hold of her fingers under the covers as the blonde sat up a little straighter.

"She's right Al. I want my keys back. It's not your place to come striding on in here and making fucking fireworks out of nothing. _Christ_….it was just a fucking vandalism charge, Ems," she frowned, meeting her eyes. _Oh for fuck's sake. _Alicia didn't budge though. Instead she raised her eyebrows and just looked amused.

"And the aggravated _assault _conviction Naomi? Going to gloss right over that one were you?" she returned. "Should I be worried you'll beat the shit out of me too if I don't jump when you tell me?" _What. The. Fuck? _Emily felt a little sick, but she'd already picked her team.

"You know what?" she clung on tight to Naomi's fingers. "You're full of shit Alicia. You're always full of shit. You were full of shit when you made me think you and Naomi were back together and you're full of shit if you think I'm not going to stay and let Naomi tell me her side of the story. I'm sorry to be disappointing, but I'm just not playing. So unless you're particularly interested in watching while we have a private conversation together before I return to my original plan of fucking _my new girlfriend _all afternoon, then I suggest you leave."

Naomi flushed bright pink, staring at her and for a second Emily thought she'd embarrassed her. But then she turned and looked straight at Alicia instead.

"Shit," she said quietly, almost to herself. "I can see right through you…" she gazed at Alicia as if she were a stranger, before her anger finally flashed. "Jesus christ, you fucking controlling, manipulative _bitch!" _she spat._"_My life isn't some play thing for you to fuck around with!"

Alicia was on her feet at once, her mouth opening to hiss a response when she was stopped in her tracks. Naomi had thrown back the covers and stepped out of bed to stand stark naked before her, her hands strongly on her hips. "Let's just make this perfectly clear," she said, her voice sounding clipped. "We're _not _together any more Alicia. And on top of that…you're fucking fired."

"Naomi-" the woman began.

"_No! _You keep trying to make me need you, but the thing is…I just don't. I'm sorry. Goodbye Alicia." They stood rigidly staring at each other for a long moment and Emily flinched, as without breaking her gaze from Naomi's, Alicia's hand came up and angrily launched something small and sharp across the room, hitting Emily hard in the middle of her chest. Without skipping a beat, Emily hooked one finger through the set of door keys that had been flung at her, and casually waved them at Alicia.

"Oh! Thank you. These will come in handy from now on," she smiled at her, despite the look of hatred that came shooting toward her. Alicia turned back to her ex.

"You're going to regret this," she promised in a low voice, running her eyes deliberately over Naomi's naked body as they faced off. The look in her eyes almost had Emily charging right out of the fucking bed, but Alicia turned and the door slammed hard enough to make the windows rattle. A few seconds later the front door slammed too and Naomi leaned on the windowsill, looking out into the laneway, as if to confirm she'd really gone. Then she turned and faced Emily, the storm in her eyes slowly fading. She bit her lip and stayed where she was, looking uncertain as she tried to read Emily's expression. Emily found herself frowning at what appeared to be Naomi's complete lack of conviction in her. _That's your own fault Emily, _she thought. She stretched out her hand and waited, until a ghost of a smile crossed the blonde's lips and she reached back and took hold of her fingers and came back to bed. They lay in the sheets, facing each other.

"Did she hurt you?" Naomi asked quietly, brushing her fingers over the small red mark in the centre of her chest.

"No," Emily replied, lying only a little. She'd have a fuck of a bruise tomorrow. "I can't believe she made you think we were together. When was that?"

"The day after you came to London to find me. I came to see you that morning," Emily replied, not quite believing Naomi's priorities. "Uh, Naoms? Want to tell me what it was she was going on about just then?" Naomi frowned and looked away.

"I was going to tell you about it," she said defensively.

"Okay," she accepted.

"Okay?" Naomi looked incredulous.

"Okay. So tell me now."

Naomi stared at her for a beat and then began. "Ems, you remember how I said I hated art wankers, right?" Emily just nodded. _Once or twice. _"It started a couple of years ago in London, when I first met Alicia. I was fucking in awe of her, you know? She came to a group showing I was in and kind of swept me away into the centre of it all. Introduced me to all the right people, financed my early shows, got me interviewed and written about by all the people who'd ignored the fuck out of me before she came along. She kick- started my career, got me noticed."

"Right," interrupted Emily. "And your paintings had nothing to do with all that." Naomi paused, smiling at her for a second, before remembering her point and frowning again.

"I _let _her show me off…and it worked. I sold my work for bigger prices than I'd ever hoped for and suddenly people were taking an interest. I had their attention finally and I just…fucking hated it."

"Why?" Emily asked. She was pretty sure she understood why, but she wanted to hear Naomi tell it.

"Ems, I don't paint because I want to sell it to people. I mean, fuck…having money was fantastic, obviously…and not having to work shitty jobs I hated was even better. But I paint because I just…want to, I have to. Cos this stuff is in me and if I don't express it, it'll be lost to me forever…or maybe I'll just fucking explode with it, I don't know. Every now and then, it feels great to share it with people. Like with you," she said softly, reaching out to stroke her fingers over Emily's bare arm. "But most of the time? There were just these _assholes _y'know? They were fucking everywhere, and they all want to schmooze, ask you horrible intrusive questions and pretend like they understand when the whole fucking time they're thinking _how much are you worth? How will you increase my fucking status? How much can I resell you for? _It made me sick."

Emily remembered the crowd at the exhibition opening she'd been to. Everyone in black, with matching glasses and expensive hair. She'd tried at first to spot Naomi, but quickly turned her back to lose herself in the paintings again, feeling awkwardly out of place and underdressed until the artworks had transported her away and made her forget them all. _Naomi's friends, _Alicia had said. _Clearly not. _Naomi sighed.

"Alicia used her contacts to get me my first huge solo show. It was a chance of a lifetime, y'know - that whole big break moment everyone is after. She was so…excited about it, kept telling me any other artist my age would kill for this chance. But the thing was…by then, I didn't want it Ems. I tried to talk to her about it, but it turned into our first big fight. She told me I was ungrateful and a spoiled child and if I tried to do things my way I'd just fuck everything up…that I was new and I didn't know what the fuck I was doing. In the end I agreed with her, but christ I wasn't happy about it." She took a deep breath in. "The night before it opened I was a wreck. Cook turned up in town and we got pissed. I didn't tell him about Alicia or what a big deal it all was, I just told him I was fucking trapped and he looked at me told me not to be such a fucking pussy and just bust the fuck out."

"Oh jesus," Emily had only known Cook for two years in college, but she still knew this wasn't going anywhere good.

"Oh jesus is right," agreed Naomi. "We broke into the gallery and destroyed the exhibition. We took a big bucket of black paint and splashed it around; I'd brought a Stanley knife and we slashed up the canvases. We went to fucking town on it all, you know?"

Emily felt tears sting her eyes. "You defaced your own paintings?" she asked, feeling bereft at the loss of a part of Naomi she'd never get a chance to see. She saw the flash of devastation in Naomi's eyes as she continued.

"Yeah. I was fucking desperate. I just felt so fucking trapped and I couldn't cope with the idea of being even more invaded. I didn't want any more of me to be examined or _sold_. But Cook…fucking wanker didn't know the difference between my art and someone else's. Before I'd even noticed he'd destroyed half of someone else's work as well. He was a young artist too…barely up and coming, working so fucking hard and we screwed it up for him."

"Shit Naomi…"

"Yeah," she blinked. "Anyway. A security guard caught us…scared the shit out of us both. He's the one I got the assault conviction over."

"You…hit him…" Emily ventured, trying to imagine the scene. Naomi snorted.

"No Ems…valuable hands remember?" she smiled. "Cook hit him. Cook hit him fucking _hard. _Knocked him out, fucking hospitalised the poor guy for a week."

"Then why-"

"Ems, Cook has already been to fucking jail. For assault…the wanker…and dealing as well. You must have heard about that, he fucked up his final year of college."

"Right. Yeah, but-"

"I took the rap for it Ems," she shrugged. "He didn't want me to, but it was my fault he was there in the first place. My exhibition, my crisis, my fucking tantrum. With his record and everything he'd have been back behind bars in no time."

"But he assaulted someone! Twice!"

"It was a stupid snap reaction Emily…we were fucking wasted and on edge and the guy came out of nowhere. And Cook…he'd only just gotten back on track - finally holding down a job, got a long term girlfriend. Jesus he had a kid to think about as well - not with the girlfriend, obviously, but he really fucking wanted to get given a chance to get to know his little girl and there was no way in hell if he went to prison was there? Besides-" her words were cut off as Emily grabbed her and kissed her hard.

"Go on…sorry," she said, her voice coming out huskier than usual. Naomi licked her lips softly, a light flaring briefly in her eyes. She cleared her throat.

"I called an ambulance. The police came too. My fists were all bruised from punching the shit out my paintings and the security guard never had a fucking clue what happened to him, so no one questioned it. I was charged - and eventually convicted, but between it being my first offence and Alicia hiring me the world's most expensive lawyer, I got away with community service," she shrugged. "Helped out at a centre for underprivileged kids - so basically I still got to finger paint. Loved the shit out of it actually," she smiled.

Emily smiled back imagining a pile of painty kids and Naomi happily in the middle of it all, telling them to fuck off art school and go paint for themselves instead.

"So why…why the fuck is Alicia bringing all this shit up now? I mean…she knew it wasn't you that punched the guy, right?" Naomi nodded.

"Yeah of course…cynical fucking bitch was grasping at straws, trying to throw whatever spanner she could think of into the works…hoping you'd jump to conclusions and think I was a liar and a con I guess."

"Well she doesn't fucking know me then, does she?" Emily rolled her eyes.

"Nope," Naomi looked entirely smug for a second, tucking a strand of Emily's hair behind her ear. Then she sighed. "The thing is Ems…she fixed it for me. I'm still not sure why she ever forgave me, but in the end I benefited from what we did and that's what's so fucked up. The gallery owner wanted me hung, drawn and quartered and if he'd had his way no one would have ever looked at my work again. And I guess that's exactly what I'd been trying to achieve when I did it. But the thing was…it all forced me to re-evaluate. I looked at Cook and he was….struggling so fucking _hard _to get somewhere and there I was just burning up everything I'd been handed. I realised I really only do have this one thing, you know…this one thing I could give and if I was ever going to make something of my life then this was the only way I was going to do it."

"I'm fucking glad," Emily frowned at her. "Big wanker."

Naomi snorted. "Anyway, Alicia sweet talked the gallery owner. Paid him out in fact, some ridiculous sum, with promises of extra if he kept the details quiet…I think some of my proceeds still go to that guy actually. Instead the official story was that some unspecified jealous rival had broken in and sabotaged my work. Fuck knows if that rumour ruined someone else's career, I hate to think about it. But I got a lot of undeserved sympathy for this tragic assault on my work. I tried to hide away from a lot of it, just hid out in my studio and painted for weeks on end. And then as a direct fall out of my failed show, this ridiculously famous artist invited me to be a part of his next show. It put me in the way of a whole other calibre of the art world and everything just exploded from there. I felt like the biggest asshole, so I cracked it and left London. My mum had moved to Bristol a few years ago so here I am. Amazingly Al followed, but I reckon it works since she loves being a big fish in a small pond," she rolled her eyes. "Obviously I still had to do shows in London - so she was happy and I could work in peace."

"So it all worked out in the end," frowned Emily.

"Until now," agreed Naomi. "Ems, I fucked up. Again. I got stoned and clearly rambled on too much to this fucking journalist and he got suspicious, did some digging and wrote a big expose. It came out a few weeks ago and according to Alicia no one's going to be taking any of my calls for a good long while. Got some hate mail even. I wouldn't be too fussed to be honest; it's a relief it's all out in the open finally. But since that gallery owner looks like a gobshite now for going along with everything and that young guy whose work we wrecked turns out to be a stroppy asshole these days, people are asking questions. It turns out there's a security tape of that night which could get released - Cook and I both lied in court and shit, Ems…it's all a big fucking disaster."

"And now you don't have a big scary manager to back you up and fix it for you," Emily realised.

"No," Naomi lay back and gazed up at the ceiling. Clearly the full extent of how just much shit she was in after fucking off Alicia was only beginning to strike her now. She looked fucking terrified. "I mean, Alicia had a plan that was slowly coming together but it basically involved a big pile of very smooth talking and splashing of cash around on her part. Not to mention using every single one of her lesbian mafia connections. Cook and I are basically fucked without her."

_Okay, enough. _"Okay enough," Emily announced firmly, shifting in the bed. She sat up and moved to straddle Naomi, smirking at the way Naomi's eyes widened as all of her Alicia related thoughts flew instantly from her mind. Emily leaned down, tilting Naomi's chin upwards. "My eyes are up here," she reminded her, raising both eyebrows at the suddenly flushed blonde. Naomi kept her eyes where they'd been directed, but her hands gripped Emily's hips and she was biting her lip with the effort. "I'm serious, Naomi - enough of this shit," Emily continued. "You told her yourself already; she's always managed to convince you that you need her, but you fucking well don't. So the question now, is what are we going to do to fix this?"

"We?" asked Naomi, propping herself up on her hands, bringing their faces closer together.

"Yes, _we," _replied Emily, liking the way it sounded pronounced so warmly from Naomi's lips. She kissed her, feeling the heat building at the intimacy of their position as one of Naomi's hands began to sneak up her body. "I mean, yeah I realise we're naked right now and everything," she glanced down, confirming the fact, "but I can still be a good friend when you need one," she kissed her again.

"Naked friends," repeated Naomi, leaning in to kiss her throat, her thumbs stroking over Emily's ribs, making her shiver. "Interesting," she continued as her hand slipped higher to stroke along the underside of her breasts. "Because not twenty minutes ago I believe I heard you describing me as your _new girlfriend," _she began to kiss her earlobe, teasing her with little darts of her tongue. Emily felt herself blush.

"I was just trying to piss off your ex," she pointed out, before groaning a little at the kisses moving back down her throat. Naomi's thumb traced over her nipple, circling it as it stiffened, making Emily gasp.

"Pity," Naomi smiled, exhaling against her skin. "I kind of liked how it sounded, coming from you." Emily pulled her in to kiss her hungrily, the words flashing through her mind, considering them for the first time. _My…girlfriend… …hmm... _It felt fucking sexy but she wasn't about to admit it. Naomi leaned back to look at her, her eyes glinting. "And what about when you told Alicia you planned to fuck me all afternoon, was that just another line to piss her off?" Emily pushed Naomi down onto the pillow and ran her hand slowly down over her body in reply.

"No," she told her. "That I was most definitely serious about."

.


	27. Chapter 26

Naomi paced impatiently outside the cafe, feeling her nose and toes start to freeze. She wrapped her arms around herself and stomped her feet but nothing helped. Finally the door opened and Emily stepped out into the street, starting to smile the way she always smiled whenever she caught sight of Naomi waiting for her. The only difference this time was the way she kept moving closer and closer until she leaned up to briefly capture Naomi's lips with her own. Naomi found herself smirking into the kiss before briefly dropping her face down into Emily's hair, inhaling the scent of coffee and pastries after her day at work.

"Hi."

"Hi." Naomi kissed her again and they stood looking at each other goofily for a second. Emily's face had flushed bright red and she broke her gaze to scan the street around them. That was when she realised; _Emily just kissed a girl in public…that was a huge moment. _Emily looked back at her with gleeful eyes and Naomi almost kissed her a third time purely for the victorious expression on her face. "Right, so where are we going exactly?" she asked, when she remembered they should probably speak as well.

"We're meeting Katie at the pub," Emily told her. "Figured it'd take the edge off everyone."

"Right," agreed Naomi, slightly nervous herself now as they began to walk. She'd come to secretly quite like Emily's twin during their mission to London but she wasn't exactly sure how Katie was going to react to her now Emily had officially switched from Team Tony to Team Naomi. Emily had spoken to her twin at some point during the day and she seemed to be of the opinion that she was taking the news quite well. Naomi was sceptical; she recalled perfectly well the angry glint that had been in Katie's eyes around her from the start - and that was before she and Emily had even slept together, let alone started seeing each other. _Seeing each other? Guess that's what we're doing. Not that we've even managed to go on a date or anything yet,_she realised, drifting slightly as she reflected on how they'd barely made it out of the bedroom all weekend, let alone actually leaving the house. _Christ, best keep that smirk off your face in front of Katie_.

Her trepidation was heightened by the real reason they were meeting up with Katie so soon.

"Ems, are you sure this is a good idea?" she found herself asking. Emily glanced sideways at her as they walked.

"Naomi, it's perfect. Right now you need someone on your side who's strong and persuasive and a little bit fucking scary," she argued for about the fifth time. "Not to mention someone who's not afraid to shove her tits in someone else's face to distract them."

"Huh…so you _are _twins after all," Naomi pondered, wincing at the sharp jab she received as Emily's jaw dropped in offence. "I just can't see why Katie would volunteer to help me, that's all."

"Oh, you'll have to pay her," Emily responded, looking surprised. "But she'll get the job done perfectly, I know it." Naomi decided to reserve judgement on that one for now, only daring to raise her hopes as far as making it through her first post-hook-up meeting with Emily's twin without a black eye to match fifteen year old Effy's. A lot was riding on this going well. By the time the pub was in sight she was a bundle of nerves, though she managed to keep an outward cool in front of Emily.

"Naoms, relax," Emily turned towards her. _Or not. _The redhead reached up and kissed her thoroughly, managing to ignore the wolf whistles from the men smoking outside and filling Naomi's head so completely with recent memories and tantalising promises, that when she pulled back Naomi stood about a foot taller than she had twenty seconds before. _We can do this. _She stood grinning and waited for Emily's raging telltale blush to subside again before leading the way into the pub.

Katie was waiting for them in one of the dark booths over by the window, with a lurid looking cocktail in front of her. Unravelling themselves from coats and scarves and gloves as they pushed their way through the after work crowd, they made their way over to join her. Emily leaned in to kiss her sister's cheek in greeting. Naomi was about to follow suit when she caught the cool look on Katie's face as she retracted slightly.

"Hi Katie," she nodded instead. "I'll be heading to the bar then. Want another?"

It took a while to attract the bartender's attention but she finally managed to give her order, mentally cursing Katie for deliberately requesting the drink with the filthiest name on the menu. Emily raised her eyebrows slightly at her when she finally returned to the table clutching the cocktail as well as the whole bottle of red wine to go with the glasses dangling from her fingers.

"Good news," she smiled as the blonde took her seat beside her. "Katie said she'll do it."

"Katie said she _might _do it," her twin corrected, frowning. She leaned in towards Naomi. "How much are you paying exactly?" she asked, twirling her straw in her glass, before slowly sucking on it without breaking her eye contact. Emily rolled her eyes. Apparently Katie was an equal opportunist when it came to blatantly calculated flirting to get what she wanted. Naomi decided the safest way to get out of this alive was to agree to anything, at all costs.

"How much will it take?" she asked, causing Katie to break into a satisfied smile.

"This I can work with," she announced. "I'll head to London tomorrow. I'll need all my expenses on top and a first class ticket."

"Obviously," Naomi nodded.

"Katie," Emily began tentatively. "There's one more thing. Effy's going to be meeting you at the station. We're going to need you both on this." Naomi found herself relaxing as Katie instantly became too involved in arguing with her twin to remember to so much as glare at her for continuing to corrupt her sister, let alone wave any fists around. Not even when the wine caused Naomi's guard to drop and she wound up resting on her elbow, slack-jawed with lust, gazing openly at Emily who'd finally lost her temper, all flashing eyes and flushed skin.

"Huh?" she jerked herself out of her haze when she realised both women were staring at her. Katie snorted in mild disgust and Emily's irritated expression ebbed away as she tilted her head to examine the look on Naomi's face.

"Apparently bringing Effy in as well has just driven Katie's prices higher," Emily gently brought her back up to speed.

"Fine," Naomi caved instantly, "That's fine. If you two can pull this off it'll be worth it." Her desperation fuelled generosity seemed to pay off; as they stood outside in the cold to say goodbye, Katie leaned up to kiss her cheek in farewell. This belief was neatly shattered when Naomi realised it was just an excuse for Katie to hiss in her ear,

"If you hurt her lezzer, I'll rip your teeth out and so on and so forth, et cetera, _alright_?" Naomi could only nod tightly, wondering if she had anyone who'd care enough to threaten the same back to Emily. She was pretty sure her own teeth were quite safe.

**.**

**.**

As Emily pushed open the gate and led her up the narrow path Naomi found herself getting edgy with excitement. _Emily's house. _Not Tony's apartment but the place Emily had picked, full of Emily's things, Emily's choices and Emily's life. Even just the outside seemed to fit better with the girl she was starting to know…from what she could see of it in the dark it looked comfortable, quaint even and full of its own personality, like it was a home. They tiptoed in through the small kitchen and lamp lit lounge room, still warm from the dying fire in the grate. Naomi smiled as Emily draped a rug over the innocent looking passed out blonde girl on the sofa then quirked her eyebrow at her, inviting her to follow her through into her bedroom.

The air in the room was slightly chilled and Emily moved over to draw the curtains over the large dark windows while Naomi soaked in the sights around her. Pale golden walls, light green bedding still rumpled from Emily's body, a heap of brown paper, cardboard and string cluttering one side of the bed and the dark red of her own painting resting against the pillows. She smiled as Emily turned back and looked at her. "You slept next to it," she couldn't quite keep the satisfied tone out of her voice.

"Looks that way," Emily agreed, flushing slightly. She surveyed the state of her bed and began to gather up the packaging. Naomi took advantage of the moment to explore further, noting the piles of books everywhere, some of the trinkets she remembered from Emily's old bedroom and lots that were unfamiliar but seemed to have been collected from all over the globe. There were plants squeezed onto every spare surface, on shelves, the tops of drawers and all along the big desk in front of the window. _Where was all this when she lived with Tony? _Naomi wandered over to the desk, ostensibly to run her fingers over the large glossy green leaves of the peace lily on top, all the while running her eyes curiously over the other items on the desk. Emily's laptop, a few notebooks, a ridiculous amount of pens and _oh, right, _a pile of Spanish textbooks. Emily's hand reached past her, carefully propping her _Desire _painting on top of the texts then gently gripping Naomi's wrist, turning her around and moving into her arms.

Emily's face pressed into her shoulder and her slim arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Sitting next to Emily in the pub and remaining on best behaviour in front of Katie, she'd slipped right back into her usual mode of wanting but not touching the redhead next to her. Walking down the street together she'd been careful not to force too much girl-on- girl public affection on her either. As a result she'd almost forgotten that she was allowed to touch Emily now, until this moment in the quiet of Emily's bedroom. She slid her arms around Emily's shoulders and held her close, enjoying the feel of her body against her own.

"Fuck you feel good," she sighed into her hair, still marvelling that this was real…her beautiful, untouchable _friend_, relaxed in her arms. Emily turned slightly and she felt her smile against the curve of her neck. _You fit me so well. We fit, Emily Fitch._

Outside it began to rain. Emily pulled away and switched on the lamp beside the bed, turning off the main light and without saying a word began to undress. They watched each other shed shoes and socks, pull off jeans and peel off their layers. Naomi closed the distance between them and both sets of hands reached out to finish undressing the other, Naomi impatiently removing Emily's bra, Emily too busy pulling Naomi down onto the bed with her. They struggled together with the blankets below them while they kissed until finally they were under the covers and skin to skin, _the way we work best_. Emily pulled Naomi back on top of her sliding her hands down over her back all the way to the backs of her thighs. For a moment they just stayed, connected, warm, in each other's arms and taking a second just to be close, before slowly they began to move. Emily pulled back to kiss her neck, causing Naomi to lean up, holding her weight on her arms. She heard Emily's breath catch in her throat as she moved to kiss her chest instead, her eyes dark with lust as they ran over her breasts and her fingers began to roam. She wondered exactly how many times during their friendship Emily had managed a sneaky perve at her tits before she'd started consciously admitting to herself what it was she was doing.

Emily's fingers slid around to undo her bra, adding it to the pile of crumpled clothing on the floor and Naomi let all conscious thought go as they lost themselves in each other's bodies. She wanted to say it then, as soon as Emily's legs clenched tight around her, her hands seizing into fists gripping onto the sheets and her hips slamming hard against her. _I couldn't be more in love with anyone, _she thought as she gazed down at Emily's gleaming body, still trembling as she came down from her high. She left her fingers exactly where they were as Emily's eyes finally opened. Her shuddering post-climax whisper of "Oh god…Naomi," unravelled her at a level she couldn't begin to fathom. Slowly sliding her fingers out, enjoying the moan she caused, she trailed them up over Emily's body and kissed her, the redhead pulling her in so tight she could feel their separate heartbeats in her chest. _I love you, I love you…oh god I'm so fucked, I love you._

She was completely hooked on the moments that always followed, when Emily would lie still in her arms, gazing at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. Her fingers would suddenly become tentative, touching her face, her throat, her arms like she couldn't quite believe she was there. Naomi's battle always became monumental right about now, not to say the words out loud.

"Emily," she asked softly instead. "Are you still going to Mexico?"

Emily began to kiss her again…her cheek, her jaw, her lips and then pulled back to look at her. "Yeah," she said softly, "I am." She kissed her again. "But I'll come back." Naomi pulled away and lay beside her. The rain drummed against the roof as the silence grew between them. She waited until Emily rolled onto her side to caress her again, looking down at her face.

"I could…come with you," she started and Emily smiled down at her.

"You could. But it wouldn't be the same for me if you did."

Naomi struggled for calm. "Right. Because of how you want to fuck loads of gorgeous women on every beach you can find…" She was fighting hard to keep her voice light so she was taken by surprise when Emily laughed.

"Because of how I've never travelled alone. I was always with my boyfriend and it's just, different that way. If I went along with my _girlfriend," _she paused, kissing her again over the word, "it would be the same thing all over again. Does that make any sense?"

"_No,_" Naomi replied. "I'm not Tony. Besides, what if something happens to you?" _Great, three seconds after she calls me her girlfriend, I'm already tying the chains to her ankle. _Emily just gazed at her.

"Nothing will happen to me. I'll look after myself," she promised. "Naomi. I need this." And that was it. Her heart was cracking but there was nothing for it.

"Right," she said. "Then I want you to go to Mexico. And I want you to love it." Her reward came in the form of a brief but sizzling gaze and a long kiss that left her breathless.

"I'm not really sure I should be telling you this," Emily started, trailing off as she gazed at her. "But the only gorgeous woman I want to fuck is you." Naomi pulled her back into her arms.

"Maybe don't tell me, just show me?" she suggested hopefully.


	28. Chapter 27

Naomi took a big shaky breath in. Then she opened her eyes, trying to see it all as if it were for the first time. She turned slowly in a full circle in the middle of the strange gallery, feeling the full weight of what they'd exposed. _Fuck me... _Cook grinned at her from across the room as he put down the welding torch and raised his goggles.

"What you reckon Nomes?" he asked her.

"Fucking hell," she let her own grin spread as she surveyed the otherwise empty gallery. "It's…just…"

"I know," he looked around at the display. "Good memories, hey babe?"

She stared at him in disbelief for a second before she laughed out loud about it for the first time since it had happened. "Fuck yeah," she admitted. Her footsteps echoed as she wandered away into the next room where Emily was leaning against the wall, looking around at the newly hung paintings. Naomi walked over and leaned beside her for a while, entangling their fingers as they soaked in the sight of the gallery together. Then she pushed herself up off the wall and turned to gently trap Emily against it, leaning in with her hands on either sides of her girlfriend's shoulders. "You're practically camouflaged in here," she told her, mentally framing Emily against the white wall, perfectly matched to the red paintings surrounding them. Emily smiled but craned her neck slightly to look past her at the art. Naomi kissed her way up her throat, more and more turned on by having Emily _here, _in a whole room filled with her feelings about her. From _Desire _all the way through longing, jealousy, friendship, lust, loss, misery and belief, until the final three explosive paintings that had barely managed to dry before being hung this morning. Emily had burst into tears when she'd first seen Naomi's latest work, then kissed her in a way that very quickly required clothes to be shed and the hard floor of the studio to make do. So many breathless words were whispered against her skin that afternoon, but somehow the feelings she'd wrenched onto the canvases remained unspoken between them.

It hurt, if she was honest. Of all the moments she'd hoped would bring Emily to finally confirm out loud the feeling she was sure was growing between them, revealing her work was the biggest. Still, she loved the way Emily couldn't get enough of her paintings. The secretive smile she wore every time she wound up in Naomi's studio, or the look in her eyes when they were drawn to the piece on her own bedroom wall spoke volumes to Naomi, even if the words themselves never reached her lips.

Standing now in the empty gallery Emily slowly arrived back in her own skin with a small shiver at Naomi's kisses. The eroticism of the moment seemed to have finally caught up with her as well, since she gripped tightly to Naomi's hips and pulled them in hard against her own. Naomi leaned back just enough to meet her eyes for a second and Emily dug her fingernails in slightly, inviting Naomi to kiss her skin harder. Her breath caught as Emily's hand slid straight up under her tshirt to trace over her nipple, pinching it between her fingers causing her to bite down on the redhead's throat in response. She gripped onto the back of Emily's neck and kissed her mouth, the feeling of desperation between them suddenly through the roof. She was spurred on by the hungry response of Emily's tongue and the redhead braced her foot up against the wall, one hand clenching tightly onto Naomi's hip as the blonde began to grind into her body. Hoping Cook was well and truly occupied in the next room, Naomi tugged open the top buttons of Emily's shirt, dropping her head to kiss between her breasts and bite at her through the flimsy fabric of her bra. The searing look she received from those dark eyes as she pulled back had her hands flicking open the button to Emily's jeans before she could think twice, sliding her fingers right into the slick wet heat of Emily's knickers, doing her best to muffle the frantic sounds escaping the redhead with the force of her kiss.

She heard Cook swear and then the sound of the power saw started up again. _Oh god, thank you Cook _she muttered internally, before forgetting him entirely as Emily removed her hand from her shirt and pushed it straight down the front of her jeans, her slightly trapped hand still matching her stroke by stroke as her head lolled back against the wall, her face flushed and her breath coming out in pants and gasps. Naomi saw them in her mind's eye for a moment, moving urgently together against the wall, surrounded in the red of her feelings everywhere around them. Emily was filling up every one of her senses with the salty taste of her skin, the sweet scent of her body, the wet velvet under her fingers, the sound of her gasping cries filling her ears and _fucking red everywhere_…in her hair and in the paint on all the walls around them. Naomi lost it then, her knees almost buckling as she came. "I love you," she choked out, not fucking caring to shut up about it anymore as Emily squeezed her eyes tightly closed, rocking hard against her hand and crying out as Naomi somehow managed to keep her fingers in place. Emily slumped against the wall, pulling Naomi with her and they stayed, forehead to forehead for a moment, struggling to bring their breathing back to normal. Emily's eyes blazed into hers.

"I know," she said softly. And somehow, for the moment, it was enough.

**.**

**.**

It wasn't exactly a new sensation for Naomi to be walking into her own exhibition opening feeling like she was on her way to face the firing squad. All the same feelings were there tonight as they'd always been - first, wondering if anyone would fucking turn up at all, then, waiting for everyone to turn on her if they did and finally, being unsure if she'd prefer that to the outwardly sycophantic reaction she'd learned by now to expect. The only thing that felt different about tonight was the experience of walking through the door with a Fitch twin firmly on either side of her. That and the new door bitch.

"Whizzer, you're finally here! Blimmin' heck you should see the crowd in there. It's like a funeral with all that black. I don't know how in bloody Nora I'm going to figure out whose coat is whose at the end of all this. You all look lovely; did you not get told about the dress code either?"

"You look perfect Panda," Naomi told her in all truth. Pandora was resplendent in a dazzling lime green and fuchsia floral print with home picked flowers in her hair. They waited while she hung their coats, all three nodding politely to Prue Dillinghouse-Collop the editor of _Art Walk _who'd arrived behind them, managing to remain solemn despite the screech that followed.

"_Fuck me_ _up the arse three ways_!" Pandora tripped on her way back to the desk. "And you are?" she smiled genuinely at the startled woman, though it was obvious she couldn't quite keep her eyes off the dramatic fur coat being presented to her, since she wasn't able to hold back from asking "Blimey, is that thing still alive?"

"You're a fucking genius," Naomi whispered to the giggling Fitch on her arm, while the other walked two steps ahead as if she were an official minder. They turned the corner together, bringing them straight into the gallery itself. It only took a second for people to start turning their way, but this time, there was no instantaneous applause. Instead eyes were averted again quickly as their voices dropped to whispers and the glances that shot her way looked slightly apprehensive. The chatter in the room died down as the disquiet spread; no one quite seemed to know how to react to her presence. Suddenly a loud familiar voice rang out, causing a noticeable flinch amongst the crowd.

"Let's go fucking mental!" the voice roared and the music jumped up several notches before Cook bounced his way over through the crowd which scattered promptly out of his way. Naomi smiled; he was wearing a suit…she hadn't seen him look this dressed up since he'd arrived to watch her in court. He crushed her against his chest and she burst into laughter over his shoulder as he whipped her up off the ground and launched her around in a circle. Distantly she heard the noise of the crowd start up again in relief at the distraction.

"Fitches. Looking fine," he grinned when he put her down, causing Emily to duck as he threatened to ruffle her perfectly arranged hair. "Oh christ, Katiekins…your tits are still fucking smashing," he clutched his heart looking pained and Katie tried her best to look disgusted.

"Fuck off Cook," she replied mildly as a small smile twisted her mouth. "Schmooze time," she announced and glided three steps to the right. "Hugh, darling, I'm so thrilled you could make it," she placed her hand on the older man's arm, gazing admiringly up at his delighted face. _Thank god for Katie Fitch. _Naomi had just about fallen over when Katie had knocked on her door two days after their pub meeting with the security tape in one hand and signed statements from the London gallery owner and the now placated artist whose work Cook had destroyed in the other. She'd been spluttering out her thanks when Katie had blithely informed her she'd also arranged full use of the Bristol gallery owned by the same old enemy for stage two of the plan and that furthermore, she'd taken the liberty of planning the opening night for three weeks time. She and Effy had divided up the list of who's who in the art world and attacked them all, with a combination of mysterious cool and languid glances - or in Katie's case, a display of flattering smiles and impressive cleavage - and convinced them all to attend, simply because Naomi Campbell's art was _the only thing that mattered right now._

It hadn't left them with anywhere near enough time to plan and Naomi had promptly freaked the fuck out. It was Emily who helped her hold the whole thing together and in the end the concept had grown of its own accord, out of their long conversations into the night. They'd spent hours talking about how it felt to be caged, while every glance and touch and shared secret that passed between them became another chance to practise how to be free.

Naomi finally relented and for the first time in her life she actually enjoyed hearing someone else talk to her about her art. She lay on the couch with her head in Emily's lap and listened to the pauses between the redhead's words as she struggled to express how it made her feel. And with that, the concept presented itself. Katie's next job was going to be impossible as far as Naomi was convinced, but incredibly it was only a matter of hours this time before Katie arrived at her house with a terrifyingly smug expression.

"Oh, whatever," she responded to Naomi's open mouthed stare. "That Alicia bitch isn't _that _fucking scary." She presented her with the file of photographs and the key to the storage shed in a downtown warehouse that Naomi had never even considered seeing again.

"Emily?" she called across the room to where the other redhead was cooking something that smelled divine. "I think I have a crush on your sister."

"Ergh…" the sound of disgust came in stereo from both twins. Fucking hell they made a team though. Naomi looked around her now, at the awkward looking crowd in black and the scene they'd managed to recreate around the gallery in just three short weeks. First they'd blown up the colour photographs that Alicia had taken of her old works - for insurance purposes, ironically - until they were the same size as the original works had been. They were still painful for Naomi to look at, partly because she could see the youthful inexperience in every line, but mostly because they'd been a part of her - a vulnerable, carefully nurtured part of herself which she'd deliberately destroyed. The pain was amplified by the way they'd eventually displayed the prints. Some were behind smudged solid Plexiglas with little vents, like in front of a bank teller or a train ticket vendor. Others were behind institutional issue wired glass so you could barely make out the colours through the opaque surface. Cook's contribution had been to solder solid cages and bars around some of the pieces; some were imprisoned, others were in fenced off in a zoo. Only one photograph was unprotected, or so it appeared until you saw the gleaming razor blades holding it in place on the wall.

Next to each reproduction, hung the real thing. From her storage shed of failures Naomi had brought out all her old skeletons. They were mostly unrecognisable, but she still knew which one was which. Huge wasted canvases dominated the room, marred with black and slashed into tattered ribbons with only tiny glimpses of their original selves showing in fragments of still visible colour. One painting was so badly destroyed it was little more than ragged scraps of splattered canvas clinging to the wooden frame, holding onto nothing inside but the blank white of the gallery wall. All four walls flickered with snippets of images that jolted and paused occasionally, forming an impression of frenetic movement from the multiple projectors that Cook's old friend (_AJ? JJ?_) had set up for them. It wasn't until you walked into the dark alcove at the far end of the gallery that you saw clearly what the images were. The security tape played on the big screen in full. It was black and white and the picture was jerky, but blown up to that size their faces were perfectly clear. Their features looked deranged. Naomi's face looked younger and more innocent even to herself but the most striking aspect was the twisted anguish that played there as the blade tore through the air and at times she ripped and gouged savagely at the canvases with her bare hands. _No wonder everyone looks so afraid of me. _There was power there; it hummed in the air, only made more potent by Cook's gleeful expression of destruction and the way that if you stood further back, it looked as though they were dancing.

Naomi had refused to watch the tape at first, so it had been Katie who'd told her with a satisfied roll of her eyes that the assault itself had happened in a dark corner of the room, partially hidden by a large bronze sculpture. Cook had taken it to his mate who he swore was a technical genius but AJ had declared that no matter how he played with the zoom or exposure, it was impossible to tell exactly who had hit the security guard. Naomi wasn't sure if the bluff had originally come from the gallery owner or Alicia herself, but one thing was for sure: it was one big glorious unreadable mess.

She kept a smug hold of Emily as they walked through into the next room, aware of just how many heads were turning to check out her new girlfriend in that infuriatingly mouth- watering dress. She glanced above their heads to look around at the room again. In contrast to the destroyed and imprisoned pieces in the first room, this second part of the gallery was immensely calm. Just one big white space with nothing to distract you from the huge paintings on the walls. Naomi wasn't sure if it was a sign she'd really achieved something with her new work, or whether the first room had just frightened the crowd into taking notice - at least while she was in the room with them anyway - but at any rate, people appeared to be really paying attention this time. Emily noticed it too and smiled up at her.

"All those beautiful paintings, Naoms," she murmured. "You ruined them because of these people. You've made all this-" she waved her hand around, "seem so fucking fragile…I think they're getting it now."

_Maybe_, Naomi thought. Or maybe it was just because of the beautiful and smooth talking art expert they'd hired, currently half way around the room answering questions about the paintings with quiet, knowing authority. Effy caught sight of Naomi and Emily and smirked at them, before returning to her circle of admirers. Katie trailed past them with a bearded man in tow. "Oh, stunning choice, you have _such _impressive taste," Naomi overheard as the twin slapped a small sales dot beneath one of her paintings.

"Katie?" she accosted her on the way back through the crowd. "Would you please, please, please be my manager from now on?" she asked her. Katie stared at her for a second.

"But I don't know anything about art," she said in surprise. Naomi snorted.

"Neither does Effy. Neither do I."

"I already have a job," she protested, biting her lip and sweeping her eyelashes down coyly.

"I know. But this one pays better," she allowed herself to fall for it. Katie looked up and grinned at her twin.

"Looks like I'm in charge from now on Ems," she taunted her. Emily toasted her ironically with her champagne glass. She seemed overly confident that Katie wasn't going to be any kind of threat to her position, so Naomi simply let her hand wander down from Emily's waist to squeeze her arse before she got too cocky about her level of power in their relationship. Emily's eyes widened.

"Oh! Hey, hi Dad," she spluttered as she looked up, causing Naomi to remove her hand so fast she nearly dislocated her elbow. _Fucking christ! _"And Mum!" Emily continued, "I'm glad you two could make it," she smiled through her slight blush. "This is Naomi...my girlfriend," she added somewhat redundantly.

Naomi ignored Katie's stifled snort and reached out to shake hands with the incredibly large, muscular man frowning down at her. _That did not just happen. Lets all pretend that didn't happen. _She managed a smile at the frozen looking brunette beside him, despite the cold, limp handshake she received from her.

"Naomi, these are my parents, Rob and Jenna. I wanted them to come and see your paintings so they could meet you in context," she smiled. _You're so fucking dead Emily Fitch, _she smiled back. Jenna looked incredibly uncomfortable.

"Quite…well, _violent _in that other room aren't you?" she asked tightly.

"Nice soldering work on the bars though," Rob added kindly, with a large fake smile. "Found a good tradesman did you?" Emily jumped in quickly before Naomi had to reply.

"It's this room I wanted you to see," she interrupted. "I'll show you around," she led her parents over to the first of the series. _Wait, that's…Desire, oh fuck…_

"Your parents are going to fucking kill me if I ever try and go near their daughter again," she groaned as Katie practically fell over herself laughing.

"Yeah, they probably actually will," she assured her. "Fuck, my sister must really love you…" the surprise was evident in her voice. Naomi's head snapped up.

"You think so?" she asked hopefully. Katie eyed her with evident distaste.

"You're not the sharpest of tacks are you, Naomi?"

"Right, but let's not forget you work for me now yeah?" she replied firmly. "A little respect for your boss perhaps?"

"Uh…no, Naomi. _I'm _the manager, which means _you _work for _me," _Katie looked unbelievably appalled at her stupidity. Naomi sighed.

"We might need to go over the terms of your job description," she told her.

"Sure, whatever. Sorry…working," she slid back into the crowd. "Marilyn, I _love _your earrings, it's _so _good to see you again." Naomi just stood a while, taking it all in. For once no one harassed her, though a few smiles were shot her way. Mostly she could just see the backs of people's heads as they gazed up at her paintings and talked shit. She quite enjoyed it that way. A few minutes later an arm snaked back around her waist and Emily leaned up to kiss her.

"I think they liked you," she lied and Naomi laughed. For the moment though, Rob and Jenna Fitch were taking the time to at least look at the works their daughter had inspired and that was enough. Suddenly a tall young man with glasses that Naomi was sure were fake, lurched right into her personal space.

"Darling, I'm so impressed, it's all so…_dangerous_," he spoke loudly, making sure he had a sizeable audience before he reached down to kiss her cheek like they were long lost friends. She stared up at his bizarrely shaped goatee, but smiled politely.

"Thanks," she replied.

"Listen, beautiful, I just _love _your use of red in this show, I mean really, it's been making me _think _you know? Just, god, it's _red; _it's communism…it's fire engines, it's the light of the sun and the revitalising life-force of the whole fucking world. It's birth, placenta, _blood _and all of man's most profound urges and impulses. It's so reminiscent of _instinct_. I mean…when you also weigh in the fact that in India red is a symbol of purity, it's just mind blowing. Really, this whole exhibition, it's all about stripping down to fight or flight for you isn't it?"

Naomi smiled up at him, wrapping both her arms around Emily. "Nah," she replied. "I just really like the colour of her hair."

.


	29. Chapter 28

**[Repost note: shit sorry, you guys, life has been busy! Thank you so much for being involved for the second time over, I adore you all for it. Here's the last part.]**

**.**

**Oh ****christ, sorry...Emily turned all introspective on me and there was nothing I could do about it. I tried to get her to calm down, but fucking hell that girl has issues. You may need a bathroom break halfway through. But it's all necessary, k? Warning: Contains intensive navel ga****z****ing and there may be blood.**

**.**

**. Three…**

**.**

**.**

"So…this date business. How'd it go in the end? Marks out of ten please," Naomi prodded her as the door to the restaurant swung closed behind them. Emily thought about it for a moment, then leaned up to kiss her the way she hadn't been able to for the last two hours because of the fucking table in the way.

"Seven," she replied. "Maybe a seven and a half," she relented, smirking at the offended look on the blonde's face.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Naomi demanded. "All these months of dying with agonising lust for me and I finally give in and ask you out on a date only for you to give it a fucking_seven_?" Emily intertwined their fingers and tried to start walking but Naomi stayed firmly rooted to the spot.

"And a half," the redhead reminded her. "Seven and a half. I mean…it was lovely - _you're _lovely, but buying me dinner doesn't exactly give you points for originality. If you were aiming for top marks you should have come up with something more…creative." Naomi frowned at her.

"I had you figured as a proper _girl_, Ems, so I picked something romantic and traditional. Fucking candlelight and everything. What would you have picked if you were in charge?"

"I don't know…" Emily trailed off thoughtfully as Naomi finally caved and began to walk down the dark street with her. "I'd probably just take you rock climbing so I could show off my biceps and have a really good excuse for staring at your arse," she paused, looking serious. "Then I'd have to flirt with you in bookstores and record shops just so I had a reason to stand far too close to you while daydreaming about touching your skin. And after that, I'd probably buy you icecream in the hopes you'd try and wrestle me with it-" Emily found herself pressed up against the cold glass of a shop front window as Naomi firmly walked her backwards into it, leaning in and holding her still with one strong hand cupping her face. Emily found her heart racing at her sudden forcefulness; she felt Naomi's body press into hers and her hot breath linger on her lips.

"Minx," she murmured, then kissed her softly before pulling away, leaving her slightly breathless. "I fucking hated you for that day," she told her, tugging her back into the street and shooting her a blazing look that said quite plainly that whatever Naomi had felt that day, it definitely wasn't hate. "Besides," she argued. "Date's not over yet. I'll ask you to rate it again when you're making up your mind whether you're kissing me goodnight or coming home with me," she smiled knowingly. They both knew exactly which option Emily would be choosing.

It was just over a week since the exhibition opening and the craziness had finally died down a little, allowing them both time to take a breath and just…be. Emily hated the feeling that maybe this quiet time together was coming a little too late; her flight to Mexico was leaving in just eight days. She was excited - somewhere inside her she knew that - but most of her just felt shocked at how fast it had arrived. She'd booked it almost as soon as they'd gotten together, reasoning to herself, _if I don't go now, I never will. _And it was true. Every day they spent together brought them closer and closer, to the point that

Emily was struggling badly with the idea that she was really going to leave at all. _Three months. Three months without her…_her heart kept rebelling at the thought. She had to constantly remind herself that this was her own fucking choice. That she had wanted - and still did want - to do this.

_It'll __be okay, _she told herself, but she really wasn't sure what 'okay' meant to her anymore. Naomi fucking _loved _her, she knew that. She saw the struggle flaring in her eyes every time Emily talked about Mexico, but it was the fact that she fought so hard to cover that struggle that made Emily's heart almost burst. It wasn't ever a question of Naomi letting her go, or allowing her to leave. Naomi just accepted, without question, that Emily was her own person who'd want her own things. She told her upfront, _I hate this plan. But you want this so, okay; I want it for you too._

Emily spread maps and guidebooks all over her bed and Naomi leaned into her body as she plotted her route through Mexico. She teased Emily into learning suggestive Spanish phrases to practise on her and tried to pass herself off as a tequila connoisseur, eventually getting Emily so fucking drunk she was adamant she'd never be touching the stuff again. She bought Emily a top of the line digital camera to document her trip and kept coming home with weird travel contraptions that Emily was never going to need. Naomi did everything she could to be excited for her and that was the part that killed her the most. Because she knew, secretly, that this trip wasn't just about the fulfillment of a long held dream like she kept trying to pass it off as. Instead she was running as far and as fast as she fucking could.

It had been the flip side of the coin, the bargain she'd made that allowed her to give herself to Naomi. It was the opposing force that allowed her to remain whole despite the feeling of complete disintegration she had around Naomi sometimes. From the very first tiny glimpses of her awareness at the depth of her growing feelings, Emily had been terrified of the power Naomi could wield over her. And with good reason, as it turned out. Because it happened immediately; the very first time when Naomi made love to her with such terrible intensity, Emily had felt it. _She could destroy me. Completely and __utterly __destroy me. _Six years with Tony and the thought had never crossed her mind. One afternoon with Naomi Campbell and she was facing up to the idea of being utterly powerless. She hated it. The magnitude was like nothing she'd experienced in her entire life. _She sees the real me. _Emily wasn't good at letting her guard down, but Naomi had seen straight through all her evasions and all of the surface of her life right into the core of who she was…and fallen in love with her. And even now, Emily still couldn't quite take it all in…_how could that even be possible, when even I'm not sure who I am?_

The first time she'd run it had been instinctual. She'd started to walk, then run and then she was on a train. But running to London had done nothing to save her in the end and neither had the weeks of distance when she'd tried again, to give Naomi up to Alicia_. _It was beyond anything she'd ever imagined, being with someone who saw inside her and loved her anyway. No, loved her _because _of who she really was. It still terrified her, but now she couldn't stay away…something inside her had been cracked wide open. _I just want her too much and she's too fucking addictive_.

Naomi had made her want to be brave and in the end she'd finally managed it and let go. But she'd done it carefully, always gripping firmly to her lifeline. And that, for now, was Mexico_. _It gave her some of her power back…_I can still up and leave whenever I want, you know. And I do want. Fuck, Naomi Campbell…you're not going to define me and I'm not going to let you destroy me. I have a choice and I'm making it. _It was her pre-emptive strike, it was everything she could cling to for strength…her independence, her shaky sense of self and her only recently discovered ability to stand up and face the world alone. It was also an escape route, just incase she needed one. Because, as she told herself, who knew where they'd both be in three months time?

But despite all her precautions, here she was now, fucking poised on the edge of the precipice; she could see it clearly before her. She was just seconds from falling so hard and so far she wouldn't stand a chance. So she clung, firmly to the rope. _I can still leave. _The more she didn't want to go, the further she knew she was slipping. _And the more it means I have to leave._

Naomi turned to her in the street and cocked one eyebrow at her as she steered her towards a dimly lit doorway they'd almost walked right past, and in that instant, Emily felt herself melt all over again. Just the simplest of her gestures could completely undo her resolve. Her expressions, the way her body moved and _her eyes_, all of it added up to something she couldn't fucking resist. It went beyond the fact that she was beautiful, beyond even the fact that just looking at her sometimes could make her wet. It was bigger than her breathtaking paintings, or the way she could always make her laugh, or how her her body curved perfectly to fit hers, even in sleep. _It's as if she were made for me, _she'd catch herself thinking. Sometimes the barb of the next thought would catch her - always a variation of _I'm not good enough for her and she'll figure that out in the end. _But then Naomi would look at her in that way she had, as if she were the most amazing person in the whole fucking world and for a few seconds Emily would believe her. And it just made everything so much fucking worse. Could she really justify anyone having that kind of belief in her? What if she didn't want to be amazing? What if she'd be happier being average? In the end it came down to one thing. She didn't _know _if she was amazing and she didn't know if she was average. She needed some fucking time to figure it out for herself.

"Ems," Naomi's voice broke into her thoughts. "Hellooo?" Emily jerked back into her surroundings. They'd walked down the dark stairs behind the door and into an underground bar she'd never known had existed. It was dim and cosy and lit only with small gleaming lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Naomi looked confused at Emily's total distraction, but after a pause, "what do you want to drink?" was all she asked her in the end.

Clutching their glasses they picked out a seat. Big comfy booths fit into the walls all around the room, leaving them slightly cloistered from the rest of the world. Emily leaned back in the seat and put her glass down on the low table. _Eight days. _She slipped closer, so her thigh pressed against Naomi's and their arms brushed together. The blonde turned to look at her, her skin glowing gently in the low golden light. _Fuck. What am I doing? _Her gaze dropped from the blazing blue eyes that were trying hard to read hers and down to the soft pink curve of her beautiful mouth only inches from her own. As always happened when those lips got too close, Emily just had to kiss them, unable to resist the craving for more than a few seconds. It just _did _something to her, every fucking time, the warmth of Naomi's soft lips against the cold of the outside world. Emily had always liked kissing, but with Naomi it was like a different act altogether. Every single time she kissed her, it tingled, electricity crackling in the air around them, just like the first time. The fucking butterflies that girl gave her…_oh christ. _The bar was half full but she couldn't stop herself from gently entering Naomi's mouth with her tongue, savouring the sharp tang of the vodka she'd just sipped and the sweet taste that was just Naomi. _I have to tell her. I have to make sure she knows how much I want her, _she saw very clearly all of a sudden. _Because Mexico or not, I can't lose her, I just fucking can't. I need to ask her __to wait for me. _She drew back from the kiss and traced her fingers softly over her throat.

She felt the eyes on her then, so clearly that she turned to look over directly at the booth opposite. Tony was watching her with an indescribable emotion on his face. Their eyes locked for a second, before his expression broke into a smile and he waved at her. She found herself grinning back at him and Naomi turned to see who'd caught her attention. She felt the blonde stiffen slightly at exactly the same moment that Michelle straightened up and all four of them exchanged awkward smiles and nods. _Fuck I miss him, _she thought instantly. Everything about his laid back posture and his cheeky smirk was just so familiar and easy it sent a pang through her. _It was always so simple with Tony. _She knew the thought wasn't fair, not on Naomi or Tony himself for that matter, but it was true - she'd never ever felt uneasy or afraid for herself in her ex-boyfriend's company.

_Always __comfortable, right from the start. _Naomi turned back to examine her face and she caught a small glimmer of panic in her blue eyes, though it quickly disappeared. Guilt sliced through her, instantly followed by resentment. She _did _miss Tony, but she couldn't just go and talk to him the way she wanted to because she knew Naomi hated him and she didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable.

"You should go and say hi," the blonde said quietly. "I know you miss him." Emily blinked. Not exactly how she'd expected Naomi to react. She paused.

"No, it's okay…we're on a date and so is he, it's fine." She dropped her gaze only to look up again when Naomi squeezed her knee, rolling her eyes at Emily's reticence.

"Ems, you were together for fucking forever and you haven't seen each other in what, two months? Just go and say hi. You want to be friends don't you?" The question caught her off guard. _Of course I do, but I never thought you'd…let me. _Her own choice of words made her flinch. Was Naomi the one building this fucking cage or was she? She looked into Naomi's eyes and saw nothing there but that simple statement again, almost like a shrug - _you want this, so okay; I want it for you too. _Something crumbled inside her…an excuse, a fucking wall, something. Warmth flooded through her and she thought again, _I have to tell her_, but for the second, Naomi's eyebrow raised again and Emily just smiled at her and got up and squeezed past her girlfriend to go and speak to her ex.

"Hey," she said awkwardly. "Hi Michelle. It's nice to see you, both-" Tony had already gotten to his feet and crushed her tightly in a hug.

"Fucking missed you Red," her face got buried in his chest for a moment, before he pulled back and ruffled her fucking hair. "Bring that surly blonde of yours over and we'll have a drink together."

"Tony, no, it's fine, I don't want to butt in," she protested, "I just wanted to say hi," she backed off a little, but Michelle was clearly in the mood to prove something, since she smiled up at her, apparently genuinely.

"Oh, please Emily, Tony talks about you all the time, it's pathetic really. Come on, have one drink with us?" Emily looked helplessly over at Naomi who caught the drift, picked up both of their drinks and came over to join them.

"Hello, girlfriend stealing bitch," Tony greeted her with a pleasant smile.

"Hey…annoying cock-blocking tosser," Naomi returned. "Michelle," she leaned over and clinked glasses with the smirking brunette. Emily let out the breath she'd been holding as Tony met her eye and they both burst out laughing. _Oh jesus…_

.

.

It was so unbelievably good to see Tony again. The months spent apart, the long awful discussions, the betrayals, all of it just melted away and they were back to being _Emily and Tony _the way they'd always been. He'd been her closest friend for more than half a decade, her travel companion across the globe and throughout so much of her life. She'd missed his cheeky smile and his quick wit and just getting to be _Red _- the girl he'd always adored and accepted utterly on face value without expecting more. It was so fucking easy, how they fell instantly into their old banter and old jokes. Sometimes she'd only be three words into a story and he'd fall apart laughing knowing exactly what she was going to say, while Michelle and Naomi looked on in bemusement. She hadn't seen Tony since the day she'd moved out, so it was still a little confusing at times, trying to remember they didn't touch each other anymore and sometimes she forgot, laying her hand on his arm when she told stories about him and it was only Naomi's slight flinch every time she did it that reminded her to stop.

Naomi and Michelle seemed to instantly connect and after a while they gave up trying to get too involved in the discussion their dates were having, particularly since so much of it ended up expressed in the kind of unofficial shorthand that existed between Emily and Tony as they caught up with the events of each other's lives. The two women seemed happy enough to get to know each other, so she turned away and left Naomi to it. It took a while before her awareness kicked in that Naomi was getting quieter and quieter as time went on, until Emily finally turned back, breathless from laughing at Tony's stories about Sid to see her girlfriend leaning back beside her looking pale and frankly miserable. "Babe, what's wrong?" she asked and she felt Naomi and Tony flinch on either side of her at the use of the pet name. Naomi stared at her, with a look she'd not seen before. Angry, defeated and kind of fucking _icy._

"Don't call me that," she answered stiffly. Emily knew she'd fucked up somehow but she froze, not quite sure what to say to stop Naomi from looking that way. She gently squeezed Naomi's knee but the blonde didn't react. She turned back to Tony and Michelle; it was definitely time to say goodnight. Tony's smile was firmly back in place, though Michelle's looked a little glassy.

"I think we're going to head home," she heard herself say, as Naomi stood up abruptly and walked out without her. "Shit…" Emily grabbed her jacket and followed after her. "Naomi,_wait!" _she called as she got out the door to see the blonde several meters down the street already. Naomi paused and let her catch up, but she didn't turn around until Emily put her hand on her arm. "Naoms-"

"I can't do this Emily," she announced firmly. Her eyes were steely with the effort of not crying but they were angry enough that Emily's chest started to hurt and she dropped her hand. She opened her mouth to speak but Naomi stopped her. "I can't pretend I want to just fucking _date _you and be fucking 'babe' to you like I could be just about anyone. Like I'm interchangeable, with Tony or anyone else who just happened to be there, hanging around while you sort yourself out," she glared at her, angrily wiping at the tear that slid down her cheek.

"I don't-"

"You're so _fucking _full of mixed messages Emily! I can't stand it anymore. Sometimes you look at me and I think _she gets it, she's right here with me _and then you turn around and you're fucking _leaving _and you've never said…I don't even fucking know if you love me!" Emily reached out for her but Naomi stepped back, leaving Emily standing there with her hands falling helplessly to her sides.

"Can't things ever be complicated?" she found herself asking. Naomi looked at her with what looked like disgust.

"It's not complicated Emily…you either feel it or you don't," she said simply. "We could really _be _something, you and me, don't you know that? But you keep holding yourself back and then I fucking see you with Tony and you're so goddamn comfortable and close to him…you have all these stories between you and all your own jokes together and he just fucking _knows_you so well and I don't, Emily, because you won't let me."

"Naomi, that's not fair! I was with Tony for my entire adult life until right now, and you and I have only just gotten started!" She stared at the blonde in disbelief but Naomi just shook her head.

"No, Emily. We were getting started and now you're fucking off. It's too much for you, isn't it? I'm too much, I feel too much and you're fucking running away, because you can't handle it." Emily's eyes filled with tears at the harsh tone in her voice. _I just need some time to adjust, please let me just… _Naomi had never once lost patience with her; she was always just there, never daring to actively demand anything of her. Emily had gotten used to it and now she began to panic, feeling paralysed as the blue eyes gazed back at her with such horrible, undisguised hurt and disappointment. Naomi wasn't going to wait anymore.

"I'm tired," she told her softly. "I'm so sick and tired of it," she raised her hands, giving up. Emily took a deep breath in, feeling something vital crack inside her at Naomi's words. Then Naomi looked past her, her eyes widening. "What the fuck..?" she murmured in a such a strange tone that Emily immediately turned to see where she was staring. Michelle was dropping to her knees in the street outside the pub beside a collapsed body on the ground. _Tony. _Emily began to run as she heard Naomi swear loudly behind her. Her stockings were soaked instantly from the dirty slush that remained from the last snow as she knelt on the path beside him. His face was contorted and dark red in the street light and saliva oozed from his mouth while his body twitched violently. Emily pulled his head into her lap to stop it from banging against the concrete.

"What's wrong with him?" Naomi's voice came from behind her, high with fear. Emily had only seen this happen twice while she was with Tony, but each time it had been over by now. She glanced at Michelle who also looked terrified and made up her mind.

"Call a fucking ambulance," she answered tersely. Tony suddenly stilled, his eyes opening wide with panic. He unclenched his jaw and Emily saw the blood ooze from the corner of his mouth from where he'd bitten into his tongue. He opened his mouth and started to yell something before his neck stiffened and he began to seize again. _Oh christ, Tony… _The next few minutes felt like the longest of her life, as passer-bys crowded around and Michelle started screaming for them to fuck off. Tony's face turned several shades darker and Emily struggled out of her jacket, throwing it over him to hide how he'd wet himself. Finally there were paramedics around them and she helped keep him still while they applied oxygen and fumbled around finding veins before putting in an IV, injecting him with something to try and stop the seizure. She grabbed for Tony's hand when they got him onto a stretcher and when they asked about next of kin, she said "me," without hesitation, so they let her climb into the back of the ambulance with his suddenly still body. She looked up to see Michelle and Naomi gripping tightly to each other's arms in the flashing lights; both their faces were pale with fright, but it was Naomi's eyes that looked completely decimated. She watched Emily until the ambulance doors slammed shut in her face and they drove away.


	30. Chapter 29

**Two…**

**.**

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In the end Naomi walked home. It took her more than an hour from the hospital where she had left Michelle, but when she found herself unlocking her own front door she realised she couldn't remember crossing any roads or turning any corners at all. She could have teleported home for all she knew. Her head was full of _words _and nothing else. Words she'd said, words Emily had said and the all the ones she fucking hadn't. All the words that had poured so freely between Tony and Emily and the stilted, frightened words coming from Michelle trying to explain Tony, his head injury and how he'd had to learn to walk and talk and feed himself all over again. The words all circled around in her brain, but she couldn't comprehend any of them. Nothing was clear. There were no conclusions to be reached. Just the words over and over, _I can't stand it anymore, _fucking _Red _and _Babe _and _can't things ever be complicated?_Answer? Yes. Yes they fucking could. So fucking complicated that loving someone could somehow turn into the whole reason why you can't be around them anymore.

By the time she got into the house she was entirely numb. It was freezing outside but the coldness seemed to have come from inside her, gradually seeping out until her fingers turned white. She thought about showering to warm herself up, but as soon as she switched on the bathroom light and caught sight of herself, stupidly dressed up for her big date, she switched it off and walked back out. This night was supposed to have gone so differently.

Since the morning that Emily had first crept into her bed, time had begun to play tricks on her. Some moments seemed to last forever, suspended there for all time, possibly because she replayed them back in her mind so often. Whole days in bed with Emily with nothing between them but the sweat on their skins. She blinked back tears as she curled herself tightly into her own body on the couch and started to shiver. Everything else seemed to have happened at hyper-speed…the exhibition and all the preparation that went into it. They'd been so fucking busy there'd barely been time to think. And what time she did have, she'd let get taken over with all the things that were making her so intensely happy right now…Emily's eyes gazing at her until she thought she'd explode at all the want glowing in their depths, Emily's body finally hers to be discovered and consumed over and over again, the tiny verbal hints of Emily's feelings she grabbed a tight hold of - _the only gorgeous woman I want to fuck is you, _and _I'll come back._

Eventually though, in the days following the exhibition it had stopped being enough. Suddenly Emily's departure had gone from 'soon' to weeks, to days. All the doubts and fears she'd been holding at bay mounted up until they were screaming at her. She'd been desperately in love with Emily since the first time she'd seen her, yet here they were having dealt with what had seemed like insurmountable odds - a boyfriend, a girlfriend and a locked and bolted closet door - and Emily still couldn't say _three fucking words_, just to give her something concrete to hold onto. Naomi had been so sure at first; _she couldn't look at me the way she does, or make love to me like that if she didn't feel the same way… …could she?_

She found herself analysing every single move Emily made, like a detective, desperate for clues. _She kissed me in the street, she introduced me to her scary parents, she brought her sister and her friends all into the midst of my life. She loves me. Right? But if she loves me, why won't she just fucking say so? _Then, another motive for Emily's behaviour posed itself: _I'm her way out of the closet. She's proving it to the world and her family; they're all signs of being brave for herself, not brave for me. _Between Emily's evasions and the fact that she really was actually leaving, Naomi finally discovered her brand new fear - that once Emily set foot on that plane, there was a growing possibility she might never see her again.

As soon as the urgency of the situation hit her she immediately gave up on trying to work out Emily's real plans and feelings on mere hints and guesses alone. They were going to fucking talk about this. She had it planned so well, with the romantic dinner and the bottle of wine they'd shared, then the semi-private, quiet little bar with the low, delicate lighting. She'd lay it all out there, like she'd laid herself out all along. _I've always been yours Emily and you know it. Are you ever going to be mine? _But in the end, she hadn't even had to ask. Tony, the wanker, who Emily had loved for so many years - maybe not in the way Naomi loved, but it had been love all the same - answered her question for her. She could see it in the easy, happy warmth in Emily's eyes _and her fucking hand on his arm and the way they could practically read each other's minds. _She'd let Tony in on all her trips around the world with her, let him all the way into her life and grown all the way into adulthood with his arms around her. So maybe she wasn't straight but in some weird way that made the depths of her feelings for him even harder to bear. _She'd probably told him every single day they were together that she loved him._

_Oh christ, Tony…_Michelle's words rang in her head again, telling her how he'd come so close to dying, how he'd struggled to even hold a pen again let alone write his own name. But he'd battled through his last year of college and here he was - a successful journalist and all round good guy. And here she was, thinking Tony had always had it easy, just assuming by his effortless appearance of arrogance that he'd never had to try at anything in his whole life. All along Tony had been a real fucking person, someone who'd fought harder than she'd ever had to fight for anything at all. _I judged him, mocked him, stole his girl and now he's lying in a hospital somewhere. _She wondered then if maybe Tony deserved Emily far more than she ever had.

_Fucking HELL no. _The thought kept wrenching her apart until she stood blindly, making her way up the dark stairs and switched the light on in her studio. Right away she was confronted with the work she'd started just after the exhibition. More fucking red, more fucking Emily. _How dare she take me over like this? Without giving me anything back but false promises with her eyes and arms? _Without changing into her work clothes or letting herself hesitate for even a second, she started squeezing massive globs of paint right onto the red canvas. She didn't pause to think about colours because it didn't matter; she smeared them together with her hands until the whole painting was the same sick looking sludge her life had turned into.

She squeezed more paint onto the tray beside her and started something new. There was not going to be any red in this one. She lost track of time, though eventually she became aware of the sky slowly beginning to change colour outside. She was no longer cold but she still shivered as the rage and grief poured through her.

"Naoms," the tentative voice from behind her caused her to still, just for a second, before she returned to her task of painting Emily Fitch right the fuck out of her world. "It's five in the morning, what are you doing?" _For fuck's sake. _She turned around, suddenly aware of the paint running down her arms and splashed all over her clothes.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she snapped, not wanting to be as affected as she was by Emily's pale face and exhausted eyes. "How's Tony?" she remembered to ask. Emily stayed in the door way, holding onto the frame with one hand as if it was the one thing keeping her on her feet.

"Sleeping," she said. "They scanned his brain and they couldn't see anything wrong. He's going for more tests in the morning but they say maybe he'll just have to start taking some more medication or something. His mum and Effy and Michelle are with him," she concluded softly. Naomi processed this information. Everything in her wanted to just take Emily by the hand and lead her to bed where she clearly needed to be and just curl into her body for one last terrible time. Concentrating hard, she steeled herself.

"So why the fuck are you here then?" she asked, instilling the full brutality of all the ice she was capable of into her voice. "I told you, I can't do this with you anymore. Please just…leave." Emily took a step into the room.

"I love you," she said softly. Naomi flinched. This wasn't right. Emily didn't want to fight so she was saying exactly what she knew was wanted so she could go to bed and be held with _status fucking quo _returned.

"Don't lie," she scorned her. Then she tried to step back, but it didn't work because Emily had already crossed the room, grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her like she was trying to reach into her fucking soul. Naomi pushed at Emily's shoulders, leaving her hand prints across her top, then when she resisted, she grabbed at her face and pulled her away, streaking paint across her cheekbones and her hair as Emily let go. She slumped onto the stool behind her, breathing heavily and just staring at Emily, holding herself together and needing her to leave so she could fucking fall apart. Emily just stood there, paint smeared and shivering. She looked almost as broken as Naomi felt, but when her voice came out it was tight with anger.

"I saw him there, on that _fucking _trolley," she struggled to get the words out, "when he was still unconscious and I thought he was going to die." Naomi could almost hear the words before they arrived, so she helped her out and spoke them for her.

"And that's the moment when you realised that you can't live without him," she said flatly, almost wanting to roll her eyes at the horrible cliche that was coming for her. Emily just stared at her.

"That was the moment when I realised I can't live without _you_, you tosser," she retorted, her anger flaring. "For fuck's sake Naomi…every time I looked at him, in a fucking hospital bed, lying there so helplessly, I kept seeing _you." _Naomi's head jerked up and she frowned, finally witnessing the devastation in the redhead's eyes. Emily started to cry. "I just kept thinking, you know…that we're all so _fucking _fragile. We're just these horrible…delicate arrangements of blood and nerves, and things can go so fucking wrong and for no reason at all," she shook as the words poured out of her. "Naomi, you could be dead in a second and I…I couldn't-" her words came in sobs. "If anything happened to you…" for a second, she didn't seem able to breathe and Naomi found herself standing up to grip onto Emily's shoulders, looking into her eyes trying to see the truth as her heart beat almost out of her chest. Emily clung to her, their tears mingling as she lurched in and kissed her again, almost brutally, leaving Naomi bruised as she pulled back, Emily's eyes searing her with the terrible anger and pain they blazed with.

"I'm so fucking in love with you," her whisper was almost a hiss, "I keep trying to fight it, but I don't know how to act or who to be anymore, Naoms… ...I love you so much it's killing me." Naomi began to shake. She found herself moaning into their next kiss, her hands wrenching at Emily's clothes, needing to be closer, needing her skin, needing to be inside her, almost clawing at her in her desperation as Emily's top finally dropped to the floor and then her skirt. The sounds escaping Emily's throat were somewhere between gasps and sobs as she pulled right back at her, grabbing at buttons and zips until her cold hands reached inside her clothes to grip on tightly, digging her fingernails into her bare hips. Naomi tugged at her own jeans and they both tipped backwards bringing the easel crashing down with them, the wet paints splashing across their bodies and across the floor. Her shoulder blade dug uncomfortably into the side of the canvas as Emily rolled on top of her, her hand shoving straight down into her pants, her fingers pushing inside her as she half kissed, half bit Naomi's lips.

Naomi cried out as their mouths collided, lips, tongues, teeth and Emily's wrist curved as she began to fuck her without any mercy at all, pushing her fingers into Naomi's body and adding weight with her own hips. There was nothing gentle or romantic about it but for the first time Naomi knew without a doubt that she was being made love to, fiercely, with no safety net and no holds barred. And just incase she didn't know, Emily pulled back from her assault on her mouth to watch her face, her eyes desperate and yearning, as if even as their skins rubbed against each other and her fingers were inside her she just couldn't get as close as she wanted to be while she gasped "I love you," over and over until Naomi's world exploded.

.

.

There was more then, that followed. Words were whispered in her ear and murmured against her skin as they stood in shower and gently soaped the paint off each other's skin and out of their hair. More words arrived, slurring with sleep, as she finally took Emily to bed, wrapping her up in the sheets and her own body while the dawn broke outside. Soft words, angry words, words of fear and hope and want, finally Emily said them all. But in the end when she looked back on all those moments, the scenes became soundless, and all that mattered were Emily's eyes, hiding nothing, wanting everything. That was what she held onto after Emily left. It kept her going when she finally stopped painting everything red, knowing now there were so many other spectrums she could see; some she'd been shown and some she only suspected were there but she had strong hopes of some day working out.

Emily didn't call. It hadn't been agreed that they wouldn't speak, but it seemed easier that way somehow. The thought of Emily's voice sounding so close in her ear while she was so untouchably far away seemed unbearable to contemplate. Once in a while she got an email, hastily typed from a backpacker's lounge room somewhere and the word 'love' was never mentioned. It made her smile in a way…it wasn't a word that should arrive by cables and wires; the only way she wanted to hear it was hissed or moaned or murmured against her skin, or accompanied by the dark blaze of Emily's eyes on her own.

On the nights that she couldn't sleep she began drawing again, until she had a whole sketch book of longing beside her bed. She let herself be dragged out of the house by Cook, who bad mouthed Emily every chance he got; it seemed he was never going to forgive her for getting on that plane. Naomi kind of loved him for it. She spent an absurd amount of time with Katie, to her immense surprise. The other Fitch in her life always had a work related excuse to meet with her, though for a while Naomi was almost convinced the twin had actually started to like her. Eventually she realised that Katie was just as lost without Emily as she was and Naomi was the only other person who understood. Despite all of Katie's irritable fronts and perfectly crafted insults, she'd clearly decided they would have to look after each other, for now at least.

Gina showed up frequently, occasionally warning her in advance and occasionally not. She seemed to find the whole situation highly amusing for some reason, seeing her daughter practically drowning in love. "Oh sweetheart, stop being so dramatic," she teased her. "Three months is nothing, not out of a lifetime." Naomi knew her mother approved of Emily's adventurous soul-searching side; she told her often enough. "You know she's doing this as much for you as she is for herself, Naomi," she'd say. "You need two whole people if you want a relationship that's going to last."

The months wore on and Naomi tried not to count the days. The halfway mark passed and she kept herself as busy as possible, trying not to worry about Emily…where she was at and who she was with. One day she woke up and smiled to herself…the countdown had finally moved from months down to weeks. _Three weeks and she'll be back in my arms again, _she thought with relief. That was until she was jarred from her sleep in the middle of the night by the phone call that changed everything.


	31. Chapter 30

**Last one…**

**.**

_And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom._

_(Anais Nin)_

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Temptation. It's a concept that's both new and old to me in a way. It's old because I remember feeling it around Effy when we first met; it was like a shiver down my spine that I couldn't repress until I was utterly compelled to do something about it. I used to think when I looked back at that time, that it was like a powerful external force was acting through me somehow. But now I know it was only me all along. At the same time this feeling of _being tempted _by someone feels oddly new to me as well, because I swear, once college was over, I never experienced it again. Not until Naomi arrived in my life. And it wasn't until I'd been in Mexico for a few weeks that I realised how strange that was. All those years of my life and I never once looked at another human being and thought, _I know I shouldn't, but I want you…_

Tony wasn't a temptation, he was fate. I knew it when I first spoke to him, not just that I could love him, but that he could be the answer I'd been searching for. He could be the perfect solution to everything that scared and confused me, and that's what love is about right? Safety and comfort and the end of your search? That's what I thought at nineteen anyway. He was also a good, convincing reason not to be tempted any more. No more confusion, no more looking at girls and feeling afraid and vulnerable and alone. The thing I haven't been able to understand though, is why it worked so well. Because it wasn't as if I was blinded by love and overwhelming lust back then, not the way I am with Naomi, yet here I am in Mexico and for the first time since college I'm aware of temptation all around me.

Backpackers…we're nothing but a recipe for disaster really. Every single one of us is young, adventurous and free for once from the normal constraints of our lives. Our families, jobs, routines and often our partners…they're all far away and safely back at home. Irrationally, I missed Tony almost at once; he'd always been my source of security amongst all this chaos. He just had this great vibe about him that made people gravitate towards the both of us, but he'd always been so obviously present at all times that only the most harmless level of interest had come my way. He always came home from our trips with piles of email addresses and invitations for us to come and stay with new friends from all over the world whenever we made our next trip. He stayed in touch with loads of the people we met, but I never did. Because standing behind Tony, I never truly had to connect with anyone else at all.

So here I am, alone this time, with no boyfriend to hide behind and it turns out that temptation is everywhere. It feels like college actually, everyone hooking up left, right and centre, only here it's with the security of knowing one of you is always about to hop on the next plane or bus out of here, never to be seen again. The thing that shocked me right away was the amount of female attention I got. Because I hadn't changed outwardly, not that I was aware of, but somehow, I was being _obvious_. Like I was exuding something I'd always managed to hide before. It freaked me out a little, to be honest. We'd be laughing and talking while doing something mundane, like cooking in a communal kitchen somewhere and suddenly I'd see that flicker in a girl's eye that would pull me up short and I'd realise suddenly, _flirting, we're flirting_. Then the next think I knew she'd be asking me to go for a drink and I wouldn't know what to say. I didn't want to assume and yet I knew the assumption was probably right, it's just… _how the hell did she know? _Emily Fucking Gay Fitch. It was weird.

In the end we'd go for that drink, though I usually invited some of the other friendly randoms to come with us and I'd only be a few drinks in before I was all _Naomi this _and _Naomi that. _I'd only ever mean to bring her up casually, _yeah, my girlfriend back home, _just to make it clear, but once in a while it was like I'd bring her up and I couldn't stop. It was embarrassing really. Eventually someone would tell me how cute/adorable/lucky we were and I'd pull myself up short and put away the camera I'd been about to pull out to flick back through and show them the pictures I took of her before I left…the photos I stare at every night before I go to sleep. Christ, Emily, get a grip.

Anyway, it all made me realise what a huge part of myself I'd always shut down, just to try not to be _gay_…I mean, really, for fuck's sake. I stopped up this whole fucking side of me where I can look at someone and really see them. I put so much work into not being attracted to anyone who confused me that I never really got to know anyone at all. Shit, even Effy and I wouldn't have ended up friends if she wasn't so perceptive and insistent and fucking _Effy _about the whole thing. I'd been so ridiculously scared of feeling something I shouldn't, that I cut out a full spectrum of feelings from my life and I'm only just realising now how sad that was. Like, what a fucking _waste_.

I guess I couldn't really articulate that to Naomi, not without making her feel threatened as all fuck, but that's one of the reasons why I needed to go away. To go back into the world and be with people and just _see _them, feel my feelings and not tell myself to squash them because they're bad and wrong. Maybe she'd take that the wrong way. I mean, she shouldn't, because the feelings I have for her, they might be new and terrifying but they're cut so deeply into me that I can't even see where they begin and I end. But that's just it, isn't it? I don't want to be a slave to the way I feel about her. I would hate myself in the end, if I remained this husk of a person filled up only by being in love with her. I want to be Emily Fitch, a real whole person, with a life and friends and goals and real fucking experiences, who gets to share all that, with Naomi Campbell, the girl I'm in love with.

So. I miss her. I know she misses me. But I'm doing the right thing, I know it.

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Mexico was even more beautiful than I'd imagined. Heartbreaking and dangerous in some places, stunning and serene in others. I started out in Mexico City and found myself wandering around in a complete daze at all the noise and colour and chaos compared to grubby old Bristol. I bought Naomi the only postcard I'd end up sending her, from the Frida Kahlo museum on only my second day in Mexico. It became a recurring theme during that trip….I'd miss Naomi and wind up at the nearest art gallery without even quite planning it. It was always ended up a tie between just soaking in the art on the walls and memorising any new obnoxious art critic phrases to annoy her with the next time I saw her.

The whole of my first couple of months in Mexico, I basically never stopped moving. I did galleries and street fairs, I got introduced to a guy who ran a school for street kids and accepted his invitation to help out three days a week for the month I stayed in Mexico City. I got drunk in cantinas and rooftop terraces, ate every single kind of enchilada imaginable from every kind of street vendor and got dragged out dancing every other night of the week. I moved on to Teotihuacán to see the pyramids. I hiked in the cloud forests in Oaxaca and climbed in and around the surrounding mountains and valleys. I saw jungles and howler monkeys, went scuba diving around the reefs at Yucatán and ventured into the gay bars in Puerto Vallerta where I finally conquered my Naomi- induced fear of tequila. And I was never alone. I don't know if it was because I was young and female and travelling by myself, or if it really was something that I was doing, but all I know is that I kept meeting interesting and attractive people who I wanted to get to know and they wanted to get to know me right back. There were endless conversations in markets and hostels, on roadsides and in restaurants…my Spanish improved and so did my confidence. And then, on the bus ride down to San Agustinillo I met Julia.

Julia was….well, suffice to say, there was definitely an element of temptation involved. Julia was precisely the kind of girl I'd have found so dangerous I'd have avoided even speaking to when I was with Tony. Beautiful, intelligent, passionate and full of all the experiences I'd always craved but never quite had, since I'd tried to have them while hiding behind my boyfriend. She had an unmistakably physical presence that just pulled you in; she was sexy, basically and the new and truthful me could definitely admit that.

So, we're sitting next to each other on this bus, just talking and laughing and then…she moved her hand. And you know what my first thought was? Not a guilty _this is wrong, _or a resentful _this would be cheating _or even an old flashback to _no, Emily, this is a girl! _Instead it was this ridiculously pure, happy, _oh Julia…you've got nothing on Naomi Campbell. _So I smiled at her and moved my hand as well. Away.

She made me wonder about something though. If Julia was someone temptingly attractive and dangerous I'd have carefully avoided when I was fighting every day for my denial, then why the fuck did I let Naomi in in the first place? Because if Julia would have been a hand grenade against my repression then Naomi Campbell was a fucking atomic bomb. I know for sure that if Julia had walked into that laundromat and smiled at me, I'd have nodded tightly and ignored her as politely as possible until I could flee for the safety of home. Yet when I saw Naomi for the first time, I smiled at her - I flirted with her, I see that now - and I asked her out for a coffee. Yeah, that's right, I, Emily Denial Fitch, asked the most beautiful girl I'd ever fucking seen to come and get to know me better, even though I had a boyfriend and was straight straight straight. But why?

I'd like to pretend it was because I'd had enough. That I was ready to bust the fuck out of the cage my life had become and Naomi was the beautifully timed temptation that finally blew the walls apart. But it wasn't like that at all. I liked my fucking cage. It was cosy, safe and nicely secure. Because that's the thing about bars…they might lock you in but they keep everyone else out as well. I didn't want to come out of there, ever, and whenever any of the people around me rattled the bars, or pointed out how easily the cage could be unlocked, I snarled and fought them off, baring every single one of my teeth and claws. But at exactly the same time that I was protesting and fighting, I kept pressing myself up against the bars and reaching through them, trying to get as close as I possibly could to Naomi while never quite allowing myself to see the contradiction in my behaviour.

Effy hadn't been enough to make me brave. Julia would not have been enough to make me brave. But the second I laid eyes on Naomi, something stirred, so deeply inside me I never had to consciously admit it. I just…had to be with her. It wasn't even a question of fighting it. Sure, I subverted it into a need for her friendship, for her company, for her influence in my life. For a while. But sitting next to Julia on that bus made me think about _temptation_…about lust and love and freedom and choices, and the realisation was instantly clear. I'd been in love with Naomi Campbell since the second I'd first seen her, swearing and glowering in her wet jeans. From the moment our eyes met, everything was set. Now it almost seems funny that I tried to escape it at all.

So why am I in Mexico, you might ask? Why would I leave the love of my life just as soon as I finally got my shit together to really be with her? To be honest, I think that's the answer right there; I've never really been with her. I've never really been with anyone before. Not entirely. I've always been hiding, always keeping the important parts of myself back. I've spent my whole life being just a shadow behind Katie, behind Tony. And then along comes Naomi. I don't know if you've noticed but that girl casts a bigger shadow than most. She burns so fucking brightly that everyone and everything around her pales in comparison. If I wanted someone else to hide behind, I couldn't have picked better than her could I?

But here's the thing. I don't want to be a shadow anymore. I turned twenty-six years old yesterday and it's about time I found out who I really was. I've been this fucking chameleon all my life, taking on the colour of whoever was around me. Literally even sometimes - this red hair, the main thing everyone notices about me, the source of my name from Tony and the inspiration for Naomi's paintings? All Katie's idea. This girl, _Red…_she's a whole imaginary person invented by other people. And now it's time for her to die.

.

.

When Julia and I got off the bus, I was excited. Finally, after months spent in shared rooms and noisy hostels, I'd decided to book a place just for myself. It was just a hut really, nothing special, but it was quiet and peaceful and all mine. It faced onto the beach and I knew I'd be waking up in the morning and stepping straight out of bed and onto the sand. After I waved goodbye to a fairly disappointed looking Julia and ditched my heavy bag inside the door to my cabin, I walked straight down to the ocean. I left my shoes halfway down the beach and when I got to the water I was surprised by how warm it was. The beach seemed deserted, for the moment at least, and suddenly feeling daring I retreated back to the sand and stripped off all my clothes before running naked into the water. I felt like I was about six years old again…no inhibitions, just me and the waves. The sun was setting and the whole sky blazed with pink, trailing light through the water towards me. I bobbed and floated in the gentle swell, gazing out at the horizon. And that's the first time that I felt it. _This is mine. This is my life. This is me. _It wasn't anything specific or detailed or solid. I just felt it. Here I was, away from Katie, Tony and Naomi, away from Rob and Jenna Fitch, from my desk in a shitty office, from my house with Panda and from the city I'd grown up in and everyone who'd ever known me. I was away from all the people and all the things I thought had made up my life and I was still here. Emily Fitch. A real person. A real person who knew exactly what she wanted.

I splashed out of the ocean, struggled my wet sandy skin back into my clothes and ran up the beach. I pressed the bell outside the reception office impatiently until a harassed looking woman opened the door. "May I use the phone?" I asked, in my almost-perfect- by-now Spanish.

The answer didn't come until the fifth ring. "Hello?" My heart jumped into my throat, just at the sound of her voice, husky and confused with sleep.

"Naoms," I couldn't continue, because the room felt like it was spinning, just knowing she was there at the other end of the line, clutching her phone, curled up in her sheets. _Naked. She sleeps naked._

"Ems! Are you okay?" her voice sounded panicked. The line was good and she sounded like she was right fucking there, her lips against my ear.

"Yeah," I smiled, wondering if she could hear it in my voice. Then I stopped lying. "No. Naoms…I…" I paused. I'd never said these words to anyone and they disturbed and elated me all at once. "I need you."

.

.

So there it was. My first realisation as Emily Fitch, a Real Independent Person, was that I needed someone. Weirdly enough it didn't feel weak. It took a hell of a lot of courage in fact, to let go, to need her and to admit it. I'd never wanted to feel this way about someone. Katie and I…to anyone looking in, you'd think she was the strong one. And she is, in lots of ways. But she's always been the one that needed me, terribly, to the point she didn't even want to admit I was my own person for most of our lives. Tony and I…I fucking loved him. I still love him. But he was the perfect antidote to Katie - he never needed or demanded too much. We let each other be. To need Naomi and allow her to need me back meant being cracked wide open to all sorts of terrifying threats. She could leave me, or hurt me, or die, or destroy me in a thousand different ways. She could be the source of all the worst things that could ever happen to me. But there she was, her voice at the other end of the line. _I'm here._

.

.

Four incredibly long days later I heard the bus arriving at the end of the driveway. It was earlier than I'd expected and I was only half dressed, so by the time I'd flung the rest of my clothes on, ran my fingers through my hair and leaned against the wall for a minute, trying to calm my breathing down, I stepped out the door just in time to see her being pointed down the path in my direction. She saw me at the same time and we both froze a second, just staring at each other. Then she walked towards me, wearing the same stupid, unstoppable grin I couldn't rid myself of. The closer she got, the more I started to tremble. My smile faded. _Oh christ_, how was it possible I'd forgotten just how fucking beautiful she was? And then she was there, right in front of me, dropping her bags onto the sand, her hands reaching out to cup my face. I felt myself flush with heat at her touch and my eyes dropped closed, suddenly unable to cope with the emotions overwhelming me.

"Oh my god…your hair!" she exclaimed and my eyes flew open in surprise. I'd forgotten about that. She slid her hands through my now natural hair, wrapping the dark brown strands around her fist and staring down at it. I waited. Her gaze flicked back up to mine. "I love it," she said, her eyes sparkling. I grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her into a kiss I wasn't sure I was going to be able to end.

At first I was too afraid to be inside one small room with her. It was too much, too close, too soon…it was all I could do to keep my breathing in check as we reached the door. She seemed to feel it too, because she chucked her bags inside and stepped back out straight away. She kicked off her shoes and took hold of my hand. "Come on," she said, smiling and pulling me down the beach with her. We dipped our feet in the water together, then started to walk aimlessly across the sand. I was so fucking nervous. I kept wanting to say to her, _this is me. I'm here now, can you feel it? _Instead I ended up so fucking tongue-tied, all I could manage was to steal little sideways glances at her face as we walked. She was doing the same thing and we'd catch each other's eye and start laughing until she'd pull me to her and kiss me fucking breathless with her soft warm lips and then the whole process would start all over again. It was ridiculous. It was like we were fifteen and shy and terrified, not adults who'd already told each other we were in love.

Eventually we stopped walking and flopped down into the sand, propped up on our elbows, side by side and staring out to sea. I still couldn't get up the courage to really speak to her and the longer we lay there, the more I felt like a complete and utter twat by her side. _Hi Naomi, this is the new improved version of Emily Fitch…the one who can't even speak. _I can't really explain it other than to say that after all that time apart it felt like meeting her again for the first time, only this time every single fibre of my being was excruciatingly aware of how much I wanted her and how achingly important it was that she love me back. I'd changed, I knew it, and I was going to continue to change. _What if she doesn't love who I become?_

After a while, she turned to face me and reached out to stroke her fingers softly over the bare skin of my waist. Even in the warm air I got goosebumps instantly. "Do you mind it?" I asked, finally continuing the conversation she'd started twenty minutes ago.

"Sorry?" she asked, looking confused.

"My hair," I reminded her. A small smile played around her lips and she gazed up at me from under her eyelashes.

"Don't know Ems. You realise I'm going to have to buy a whole new set of paints now because of you," she teased. I frowned.

"I'm serious. I know you loved the red and everything but it was never real…you know, and-"

"Emily…" Naomi was struggling hard to keep a straight face. I raised my eyebrows at her and she slipped her hand slightly under the edge of my t-shirt, tracing her thumb along my skin. "I have to tell you something." I waited while she rearranged her facial features to look serious. "I'm not a natural blonde either," she confessed.

"Smart-arse…" I grabbed her hand out from my shirt and held it in mine against the sand.

"But your paintings…" I trailed off, remembering the moment while planning the exhibition that I finally clicked that they were going to be fucking _sold _and had burst into tears like a stupid small child. Naomi had acted incredulous at first, but I knew she felt the same. They'd been so personal, charting the whole journey of her feelings, _our _feelings and they had fucking price tags on them all of a sudden. She'd held my hand in the studio as we looked around at everything, telling me they weren't disappearing but quite the opposite, being disseminated out into the world. _They're not just our feelings, you know…_she told me, _so many other people Emily, they're going to feel all this too. Desire _of course, was not to be sold because that was mine. And the final triptych she'd completed, she was keeping that for herself. She'd teased me it was going to be hung around her bedroom walls to keep her company until I got back, though the pieces were so huge they'd practically need a room each.

"Ems," she started now, the smile still teasing at her lips. "Let's call that my red phase, shall we? The work of my amateur days, when I was still just learning?"

"With price tags like that you hardly qualify as a beginner Naoms," I reminded her. She closed the gap between our bodies in the sand, pulling her fingers from mine and stroking my hair back from my face, caressing my cheek and tracing the shape of my lips so lightly that I shivered.

"Learning you, I meant," she told me softly, her eyes never leaving my face.

.

.

It all started pouring out of me then. All my adventures in Mexico, the people I'd met, all the places I'd seen, the fears I'd conquered and all the times I'd missed her and dreamed about her. She told me about everyone back home, filling in all the gaps from the few shoddy emails I'd received from everyone. Naturally she began by highlighting just how completely irritating and obnoxious Tony had been when she'd gone to see him (_oh and he's totally well again, don't worry, obviously found no fucking brain at all when they tested him), _and how she was secretly convinced Katie had decided to love her after all (okay yeah, I snorted a little at that one). It was just lucky I was lying down already because then she told me how she'd bumped into Effy who'd airily informed her she was on her way to a coffee date with my sister of all people. It seemed unbelievable after all those years, but it was about time for those two to forgive and forget. Naomi passed on some love for me from Gina, who she assured me was embarrassingly desperate to hear all about my travels (_of the soul, no doubt) _and suddenly, belatedly, it all added up until I was devastatingly homesick. Yes, for fucking Bristol, of all places. I admitted as much and Naomi shot me a blazing look in response.

"Get over it Fitch. I've come all this way and I want a proper fucking holiday out of it," she informed me. "Nothing but sun, sand and sex," she eyed me confidently, but the effect was somewhat ruined by her blush which was every bit as violent as mine. The conversation dwindled after that. "Want to head back then?" she asked, avoiding my eyes and I nodded, jumping up to my feet and brushing the sand from my clothes. The walk back seemed particularly long, distracted as I was by my heart thudding loudly in my ears as I stole more and more glances at the shape of her mouth as she spoke, her long slender bare arms at her sides, the curve of her hips, the places where her clothes clung tightly to her body and the small glimpses of her skin I could see beneath them as she moved. She appeared oblivious to the track my mind had been slammed down, instead explaining the whole way back about the new series of paintings she was working on (mostly in green, apparently) describing it all in a depth I'd never heard her use before. If I could have focussed more I would have been impressed. That was until I zeroed in on the words "multi-perspective blasts of idiopathic remnants of primordial emotion," as we stepped onto the porch of the cabin and I finally realised she was taking the piss.

"Wanker," I said indignantly, then pushed her up against the door to kiss away her laughter. She grabbed a tight hold of my hips, her eyes searing down into mine and I fucking _felt _myself getting wet. From there we were just barely able to make it in through the door, only ending up crashing conveniently onto the bed since the room was small enough it contained almost nothing else.

And from there? Well, I could tell you that we made love for the rest of the morning or that we fucked all afternoon - because it's true, of course - but that doesn't remotely begin to cover what really happened that day. I could give you all the physical details because they were every kind of fucking wonderful, but in the end they all just come down to fingers and mouths and bodies and all the ways in which they can move and interlock…her gasps, my moans, the silk of her thighs around my wrist, the way our hips fit together as my back arched up off the bed, and the taste of her in my mouth while her voice cried out my name. But what's important, what you really need to know, is that all of my worst fears were realised; Naomi Campbell could and did completely destroy me, over and over again. She wasn't sparing me anymore. Instead, just like the first time, she reached inside me and held my gaze - not the superficial one I used to meet the world with, and not even the authentic, aware one I've more recently discovered how to use - but this part of me that's almost unbearably intimate and personal and real and mine.

She'd melt me down and break me wide open, until I was a total quivering mess beneath her, holding me right on the edge of the precipice completely at her mercy, no longer able to hide. Then she'd look me in the eye and throw me over the edge, into the abyss. And that's when I'd realise that I wasn't falling after all, but flying. She destroyed me and kept me whole, freed me and caught me, all in the same moment.

Love isn't fucking comfortable and it's not always safe. Strangely it was precisely the complete lack of mercy she showed me that day, that finally made me see how much strength I had...all these layers and depths I had that I'd been protecting, all this inside me that I had to give, if I chose. She overpowered me and it made me realise just how much power I had in return. You have to be so fucking strong when you hold someone else's heart in your hands. I saw almost too clearly, all the ways I'd hurt her, all the ways she'd been brave. It wasn't the end of it though, not by a long shot…we'd have to keep being brave for each other for the rest of our lives.

The exhaustion of her journey finally hit her late that afternoon and she fell asleep in the sheets beside me. Just after she closed her eyes, she murmured "I love you," her lips moving against my chest and I whispered the same words back into her hair.

I watched the light playing across her soft skin and thought about how when I was a little kid I used to stare at sunsets. From the beginning when the sky would first start to change until it got completely dark. They were so beautiful in comparison to the usual grey outside my window that I couldn't handle the fact that they were changing…that they were going to disappear and the colours would fade and I'd never ever get to see this particular one ever again. I didn't know then, that I wasn't supposed to care about stuff like that, that I should reserve this level of focus and excitement purely for boys and TV shows and celebrity magazines. I got my first camera when I was nine and Katie would laugh at me because I'd end up with nothing but disappointing pictures of empty skies, where the orange and gold and pink and silver would just never show up. I wish I could go back and tell myself it was okay…to stop trying so hard to capture it all since as it turns out, the feelings do remain after all because all these years later I can still remember those sunsets, lying on my bed as a little kid and gazing and gazing and gazing out over the rooftops of Bristol, seeing it like a different world. I can see it now, feel the air growing cold on my skin and the magic happening so fleetingly and just for me.

And I hope it's like that with Naomi. That if this magic between us is fleeting and we end up fucking each other up in all the normal ways that people do, then I want to be able to hold onto this moment, onto her, onto us, glimmering and perfect the way we are right now.


	32. Final note

**Reposting note:**

Hey, ya'll,

Thank you my second time around readers, you've been so so lovely. If you're new to the fandom, welcome, and I hope you've found some of the other amazing stories out there. Please forgive me for not being so actively involved as I'd like to have been, responding to PMs etc - where I live now has the worst internet ever, and I've had a thousand technical problems just trying to get the damn story to post! Believe me though, I've read everything you wrote and I'm so so touched, thank you. Skins and its fandom will always have a special place in my heart.

You're all so appreciated, just a couple of quick shoutouts -

DUDE, NiceOneBlondie...good god it's good to see you again (guys, frickin read 'Ink' if you guys haven't already...of course you have, it's sexcellente). Giant old-school hug for you and muchos love, I hope you are well and good and wonderful things are happening in your life!

Whedonite1113 - your review and your words about writing meant the world to me. Like, the actual world. I've been stuck in a big fuck off hole of a writer's block and I have reread your words a thousand times, to kick my arse back to me. Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you. Please keep writing, forever, no matter when it gets tough. You'll never regret it.

**[Here lie the rambles from the original posting, I wasn't going to post this note again, but just incase any of my old bud's stumble back this way...I will never forget what you all did for me!]**

**GENERAL THANK YOUs:**

(Right after I pressed the 'submit' button on the last chapter of this fic I seriously wanted to throw up. It's fucking scary sometimes making that transition between private stories you tell yourself and public stories for everyone to see. But I woke up this morning to your reviews and they made me cry. In a happy way. Because it means a lot to feel like something kind of fragile and half-formed in your head is understood and shared by a bunch of awesome people. So thank you for all your words.)

Guys, throughout this story I know I've kept thanking you profusely and even been driven to try and express my feelings physically on occasion (shit, I'm sorry about that) with inappropriately prolonged hugs and throwing worms down your shirts and pashing you

up against the lockers, but I just hope you all know, seriously, that I appreciate all you've said and done to encourage me, to the biggest extent possible. Your reviewing dedication has been totally incredible for me, because as a writer, really all you want is for someone to turn around and say "Hey, I get that! I like your words," and you've all done that so amazingly.

The hardest part for me is always letting anyone else read my stories, cos at times that makes you feel unbelievably freaked out and vulnerable. I'd really love it if everyone could keep that in mind when you're writing comments for people, since I'm aware a few writers on FF have had some unnecessarily brutal spamming/general unpleasantness happen out there recently and that makes me so sad and angry because it's frickin HARD to put yourself out there. Constructive criticism is always helpful, but that aside, this is still the part where I put my hands firmly on my hips and say "If you don't have anything NICE to say…" etc. In saying that, thank you all for your generosity with your comment - cos seriously there were times even **I **wanted to roll my eyes at me :)

Despite the fact that I REALLY want to take on Circle142's challenge to move on from laundry to write a Naomily based story revolving around a piece of mouldy toast, this is definitely my last fanfic. I'm just not capable of one-shots apparently and this works out as a totally time consuming business in the end!

I've wanted to spend some proper time on doing some writing for ages now and I really want you to know that all your positivity towards this story has been without exaggeration, life changing for me. Cos you all gave me the big massive confidence boost that I needed, to decide 'fuck it…I want to write…stuff' (it came out a lot more eloquently and inspirationally in my head). So write stuff I will *waves fist around dramatically* More of my own stuff I mean, with my own set of characters and who the fuck knows where it will end up, but I know I'll love doing it and that's what counts in the end.

If anyone is interested at any point down the line in reading/reviewing/giving me your thoughts on whatever I come up with then I'd totally love to steal you away and hit you up for your input. In the meantime I'll still be around, checking up on your stories and occasionally still twittering random bollocks and just popping over to borrow a cup of sugar as a flimsy excuse to say hi.

Fanfic has been about lots of stuff for me…continuing on the fan love, a chance to get to talk to other people about writing (their writing, my writing, other people's writing) and a kind of random outlet and mechanism for coping with both a major bereavement and the disintegration of my relationship. So, even though that wasn't your intention in reading - thank you all for being such a lovely, supportive, fun part of letting me have all that.

**SPECIFIC THANK YOUs:**

I owe some big thanks in particular to the lovely CheesyPenName for your interest and career ideas and support from the beginning, to Circle142 for your support during my freak out mid-way and for your amazing immense reviews that defied the word count and also to the always brilliant H for your encouragement/support/reviews/behind the scenes pep talks and all round genuine spectacularity. Without you guys I would not have finished this story whatsoever and that is the truth so I reserve all my biggest locker snogs for you.

Also big huge thanks to Miss Peg, HyperFitched (I am practising every day at dawn in preparation to run away to join your circus….no - I actually am), foolishgames, idealdream, RiverRay, I_fay, FaithSky, Neverhappy10 and all the other long term readers/reviewers out there, you guys are so fucking fabulous….I really appreciate your words and your time. Thank you to HiMomHiDadHiBitches and 6seatertable for the book club and to vangoghgurl and thadarkslayer for twittertaining me. Also thanks to the bamfs and Rophy because I'm just a big LJ lurker but the first time I found your recaps I literally could not sleep because I kept waking myself up snorting with laughter at MANDDDEEEHHHHHH and Emily's face saying 'Jeans shorts'.

**STORY NOTES:**

Several people have expressed their general bemusement and dissatisfaction at my starting this story off and naming it after a laundromat. To those people, all I have to say is **_ARE YOU COMPLETELY INSANE? o_O _**Laundromats are without question, the sexiest places on the planet. It's just…all those clean clothes and clean sheets and the fresh laundry smell…whoooo, *fans self*…right, okay…so…I'm a Virgo. Other turn-ons include making lists with check boxes, people who floss twice a day and pretty much anyone straight out from the shower. Seriously, that bit when Emily sends a text message to Naomi that their clothes smell like the same washing powder? I mean, not to blow my own horn or anything but that was pretty much the hottest line ever written - not just in a fan fiction I mean, but in all of the world's literature, ever. Am I right? [uncomfortable silence] Great. Moving on...

Basically I wanted the most random accidental meeting ever, for two reasons - one romantic and one geeky. The romantic in me is obsessed with ideas about modern romance…because in these days (erm, insert croaky grandma voice where appropriate), with lots of random casual sex, internet dating, speed dating, getting off your face and snogging girls in clubs (again, guys, I speak from a place of knowledge due to all the _interviews _I did researching this stuff) how do we still find a way to tell a relatively real story about falling in love, that still grabs you by your heart? Because when it comes down to it, it's the stories we tell ourselves about our lives that make us fall in love in the first place. So above all I still just really ship the idea that despite what calculated ways we set up for ourselves to meet someone, sometimes we can still be taken by surprise. When you're not looking for it, you're not expecting it, you think you know what you're doing and all you're planning that day is nipping out to do laundry then BAM, there it is, out of absolutely nowhere, you're staggering home, ridiculously in love and there's not one thing you can do about it. So. Laundry. Now you know.

The geeky reason is more of a taking the whole Alternate Universe thing seriously. Some things are just meant to be, which is totally how I feel about the characters of Emily and Naomi in Skinsland. So if they didn't meet the way they were supposed to, what would have happened to their lives? I was never able to buy that line about Naomi just being way too scared to be gay or out. Seriously…hippie upbringing, her awesomely permissive parent, all allegedly political with riot grrrl taste in music…Emily had far more reasons to be closeted than she ever did. So in my story Naomi figured it out one way or another. Emily though, without Naomi Campbell, didn't have such a compelling reason to be so fucking brave. So that's why I reversed their roles here, but brought back all their old lines/friends/locations just cos…it was all meant to happen right? Their lives didn't go the way they were supposed to until…hello, completely random meeting and everything has no choice but to fall into place.

Lots of people have also said to me they thought it was really unrealistic that Naomi would have put up with being pushed around by someone like Alicia, but I think in this AU, you could be wrong. Partly because, like someone mentioned in a review somewhere, Alicia was the antithesis of Gina, so Naomi finally had someone strong- willed to play off/rebel against…plus with no college-Emily to compare to, maybe she didn't have much of a clue about this whole love business yet either. Which was my main reason for Alicia's character; HyperFitched got it one - she was Giant Not-Emily and that was her whole point. Oh and Tony-haters? Must you be such giant lesbians? I'm as aware as Panda was that he has a willy (though far less enamoured with the fact) but I loved that character so frickin hard…and you can love him, hate him, whatever you like but in the end he was fucking real. Oh, in a fictional TV way. Right. I forget that sometimes.

Thanks again for reading guys.

Love always

xxxx


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